False Pretenses
by Edele Lane
Summary: Last Chapter Added Resolution… WHOO! Sydney finds love with Sark but is forced to deal with the possibility that he might betray her as she tries to discover exactly what business Sark and Irina have with Sloane. Post'ADT.'
1. One: Even If It Killed Her

**Title:** False Pretenses  
**Author:** Edele Lane  
**E-mail:** Edyn04@aol.com  
**Rating:** R  
**Disclaimer:** Everything "Alias;"-related; does not belong to me. It belongs to J.J. Abrams and probably 900 other people associated with him. This means I don't own Sark. Damn. Does anyone else out there agree with me that it's incredibly easy to get lost in his eyes? I swear I found this great picture at Sarkgasm (black and white pic, but still) and I was just..transfixed..I mean..woww..*shuts up*  
**Archive:** Nowhere yet, but if you want it, take it and then e-mail me so I'll know.  
**Feedback:** Please;x  
**Summary:** Sydney realizes that she wants to be with Sark. Yeah, I know that sounds boring, but if I say anything else, it will ruin what I have planned. Trust me, all the usual "Alias;" people will be here. Oh, this is likely to get super-duper angsty (*cough* character deaths *cough*), so uh...yeah:P  
**Dedication:** This is for Ash who reads each part before it is posted here and is undoubtedly my best (and favorite) critic. This is also for Dana because we both live for fanfiction and I swear I get ideas for new fics constantly while we're discussing fics we've written previously. Check out her stuff (her penname is Dana Riker).  
**  
**Trance  
I'm in a trance  
Universe is full of stars  
Nothing out there looks the same  
You're the one that I've been waiting for  
I don't even know your name  
  
—"Impressive; Instant," Madonna  
  
  
I'm gunning down romance  
It never did a thing for me  
But heartache and misery  
Ain't nothing but a tragedy  
  
—"Gunning; Down Romance," Savage Garden  
  
  
Wake me up inside  
Wake me up inside  
Call my name and save me from the dark  
Bid my blood to run  
Before I come undone  
Save me from the nothing I've become  
  
—"Bring; Me to Life," Evanescence  
  
  


**_False Pretenses_  
  
Even If It Killed Her  
  
  
  
**

Sydney let out a moan as Sark lowered her onto the bed. She still had her bra and panties on and Sark was still clad in his boxers.  
  
She arched her body into him as he lay with her on his side, half on top of her and half on the mattress as he touched his lips to her neck, shoulders, collarbone, chest, and stomach. Sydney thread her fingers through his hair and shivered at the tickle effect his mouth had on the sensitive skin of her hip.  
  
Sark moved a hand to her breasts, lightly running the pad of his thumb across a hardened nipple through her bra. This elicited a rather loud moan from Sydney as she felt the sensations from Sark's thumb travel south rather quickly.  
  
Sark lowered the straps of the bra and reached behind Sydney's back to find the hook and swiftly removed the material barrier from her body, letting it slip from his fingers onto the floor. He let his thumb find the same nipple while he let his mouth go to work on the other one.  
  
Sydney moaned again as her body began to tremble with desire. Sark took notice and let his hand wander down her stomach to her panties. He let his fingers dance over her mound and on the inside of her thighs, exciting Sydney further, until she finally tugged at his boxers, pulling them off quickly, wanting Sark inside of her.  
  
Sark nipped a bit harshly at the nipple he was suckling but complied with Sydney's obvious request all the same. He tugged off the panties and let them drop to the floor.  
  
He laid down on top of her and slipped a hand between her legs before he slowly entered her, watching her face muscles react as he slid in as far as he could go then pulled back. He kissed her neck and collarbone then let his lips find hers in a long kiss as he slowly started to move inside of her.  
  
Sydney wrapped her long legs around his waist, allowing Sark to be deeper inside of her. She began to move her hips in time with Sark's thrusts allowing the sensations she was feeling to increase greatly.  
  
Their bodies moved together as one until they both finally felt themselves going over the edge, Sydney first and Sark a nanosecond after.  
  
Sark laid there for a moment as they both caught their breath, then slipped onto his side and took Sydney into his arms, resting his chin in the crook of her neck.  
  
  
Sydney's eyes popped open and she sat up and looked around. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and she realized she was in her bed and that what had happened had been a dream. She looked down and saw that she was naked so she instinctively grasped the sheet and covered herself with it. This was met by a groan of disappointment from someone slumbering next to her and she gasped, wondering if the dream had actually been real.  
  
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes as reality set in (finally) and she remembered whom it was that was sharing her bed.  
  
Vaughn.  
  
She sighed and surrendered part of the sheet to him when she felt him tugging at it. She heard him mumble something in his sleep that she took to be a thanks for the sheet and sighed again. She rested her forehead in her hand after she propped her elbow up on her knee. She thought about the erotic dream she had just had about Sark and warmth flooded her body.  
  
She was being turned on by her archenemy.  
  
Sydney was suddenly all too aware of her nakedness so she silently stood up from the bed and went over to the dresser. She pulled open one of the drawers and pawed through the items in it, looking for a pair of pajamas. A voice behind her caused her to jump.  
  
"What;'s wrong?" Vaughn asked lazily.  
  
_Oh nothing, it's just that I have suddenly realized that I want to fuck Sark._ A chill ran down Sydney's spine. "I;'m a little cold."  
  
"Come; here," Vaughn told her, his voice groggy from sleep, but still carrying something of a sultry undertone.  
  
Completely missing Vaughn's intention, Sydney gestured to the pajamas she held in her hands and said, "Like; I said, I'm cold, so let me put these on and then I'll try to go back to sleep."  
  
Vaughn sighed.  
  
_Oh._ Sydney blushed deeply and was suddenly grateful that the room was dark. She laid the pajamas back in the drawer and closed it, then made her way back to the bed.  
  
Almost immediately, Vaughn was on top of her, raining kisses on her neck. Sydney suddenly started thinking about her Sark dream and bit her lip, prompting Vaughn to ask her if she was okay. She didn't answer, only gave him a small smile and a kiss. Vaughn brushed his lips lightly against Sydney's as he entered her. She gasped when the dream came back to her.  
  
She forced herself to think about something else—_someone_ else—as she tried to get the Sark dream out of her head. She thought about being on a beach, lying on the sand, at sunset, with someone making love to her. On closer inspection, she realized that it was Sark and quickly chased that dream away.  
  
She tried to think of a scenario that had Vaughn in it, but it didn't matter now because Vaughn had just come and she had found herself faking her orgasm. He slipped out of her and Sydney was more than grateful when he flipped over onto his side after whispering a 'good night' in her ear because she was too preoccupied with trying to figure out why she had been dreaming about Sark to want to cuddle.  
  
Sydney lay on her side, facing away from Vaughn, and pulled the sheets over her when she found herself shivering. The Sark dream came back again and this time she didn't bother trying to chase it away. Warmth, again, spread through her body and she let a content sigh escape from her throat.  
  
She wanted Sark.  
  
She knew she was nuts. Sark was her enemy and someone who had tortured her best friend. But for some reason, she craved him.  
  
_This is ridiculous.  
_  
She was with Vaughn, someone who loved and cared about her and someone she was pretty sure that she loved as well. But she still ached for something more, different. _Someone_ different. Someone who was her equal in more ways than she cared to count. Someone she—although she had denied it when she was in Paris with him a few months before—wanted to get to know better. Someone with whom she wanted to have a relationship.  
  
Sydney groaned a bit. She knew that Sark was a bad guy and she groaned again when she realized that it seemed to be true that girls had a penchant for bad boys. Granted, this so-called 'bad boy' was an assassin, but he was still a bad boy, nonetheless.  
  
She wondered if perhaps Sark actually had an agenda that involved screwing Sloane over. She figured this was doubtful but she found herself wanting and needing him so badly that she was making up ways for him to somehow be good, to somehow not be her enemy. She swallowed hard when she realized there was a dull ache in her chest where her heart was beating steadily.  
  
She was falling for him.  
  
Hard.  
  
She narrowed her eyes at the wall she had her gaze focused on. _Screw it._ She was going to—somehow—find a way to be with Sark. No matter what the consequences.  
  
Even if it meant ending what she had with Vaughn.  
  
Even if it meant quitting the CIA to be free from the spy life just so she could run off somewhere with him.  
  
Even if it was incredibly dangerous and risky to form some kind of relationship with him.  
  
Even if it killed her.


	2. Two: Doubt

**Doubt  
  
  
  
**

Sydney woke up the next morning in Vaughn's arms and figured he must have moved during the night.  
  
"Morning;," Vaughn greeted her, nibbling gently on her ear.  
  
"Hey;," Sydney said, squirming to get her ear out of reach as his teeth were tickling her. She giggled when he finally left her ear alone and nuzzled her cheek with his nose. "Silly;," she said with a laugh.  
  
Vaughn chuckled and held her tighter. He grasped one of Sydney's hands and thread his fingers through hers. "I; love waking up next to you."  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and bit her lip as she suddenly thought of Sark. She put on a fake smile and flipped over onto her back to look up at Vaughn. Deliberately avoiding a 'me too,' she simply kissed him then said she had to get ready for work.  
  
He groaned and she kissed him again, then got up from the bed and made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. She eyed herself in the mirror as she waited for the water to heat up and frowned at the lines of fatigue under her eyes. She had gotten next to no sleep because she had lain awake thinking of Sark.  
  
It scared her. How much she craved him. She bit her lip then stepped into the shower. Her body was immediately filled with warmth and she found herself, once again, thinking of Sark. She shook her head and tried to think of something else.  
  
_Mom.  
_  
She was suddenly thinking about her mother in Panama trying to trap Sloane. She wondered if everything had gone according to plan and if her mother was safe.  
  
But a feeling of dread swept over her.  
  
If everything had gone according to plan, that should have meant that Sloane had been captured and she should have already received a call telling her so. Since she hadn't, she found herself worried that her mother had been compromised.  
  
She finished her shower quickly, upset that she was now worried sick about her mother. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot as she realized that her mother could quite possibly be dead. Her last conversation with her mother echoed in her mind.  
  
_"I; wanted to see you because...it's going to be dangerous, setting this trap. I hope it goes well, but there's no guarantee. So whatever happens, there's something I need you to...know." A pause. "Sydney;, I love you."  
  
"Mom...;"  
  
"You; don't have to say anything. I'm pretty sure I haven't...earned...very much, and that's okay. It was just something I needed to say." Tears had formed in her eyes.  
  
"Mom;, you're coming back." The look on Sydney's face was determined and her mouth had formed into something of a smile. She held back her tears.  
  
"I; hope so." Irina smiled as she put her hand on the glass and Sydney did so as well. Sydney was able to relax as she emitted a nervous, breathy laugh. Almost as soon as Irina had placed her hand on the glass, she removed it, biting her lip as she did so, as if to make it clear to Sydney that she could be gone faster than Sydney could register what had happened.  
  
_Sydney felt a tear form in her eye and she suddenly pounded the tile wall with her fist. The sound produced was a deep thud and carried with it an echo.  
  
_I should have told her I loved her.  
  
_She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She brushed and blow-dried her hair quickly then got dressed.  
  
She made her way to the kitchen and spotted Vaughn. They shared a kiss that was slightly off-target as Vaughn brushed past her, making his way to the bathroom to shower. Sydney saw Will and gave him a smile as he went to raid the refrigerator.  
  
"How; are things going with Francie?" she asked, taking a seat on one of the barstools.  
  
Will closed the door of the refrigerator and set a container of orange juice on the counter. "It;'s going great," he said, a grin plastered on his face. "I; mean, I'm really enjoying being with her."  
  
"I;'m so glad," Sydney said, smiling as well.  
  
Will grabbed a cup from the cupboard and set it down. "Want; a glass?"  
  
"Sure.;"  
  
Will grabbed another glass and filled them both about three-quarters of the way with the orange juice, then handed one to Sydney. She thanked him and they smiled again. Will took a sip from his glass. "How; are things with Vaughn?"  
  
Sydney took a long drink of her juice before responding with a nod and a noncommittal statement. "Good.;"  
  
"Yeah;?"  
  
Sydney nodded and felt compunction settle into her stomach. In truth, things _were_ going well, but since she had realized she wanted Sark, she wasn't sure what was going on. She frowned slightly and decided to change the subject. "Did; I tell you about my mother having to go to Panama?"  
  
"No;," Will said, shaking his head. "What;'s in Panama?"  
  
"Sloane;," Sydney said, then took another sip of her juice. Will nodded for Sydney to continue. "Mom; and Dad worked out a plan to trap Sloane. I don't know if it was successful or not, but hopefully when I go into work today," she sighed, "there; will be some good news." Her eyes darkened and she looked down, suddenly feeling the urge to cry again.  
  
Will grasped her hand and rubbed his thumb gently over her knuckles. "I;'m sure everything's fine, Syd," he said reassuringly.  
  
Sydney looked up and forced a smile, her doe eyes glistening with tears. "I; can only hope." She sighed and let go of Will's hand. "I; have to get going."  
  
"Okay;," Will said, taking a drink from his glass. He followed Sydney to the door and gave her a hug, whispering to her again that things would be all right.  
  
"See; you later," Sydney said, forcing another smile.  
  
Will kissed the top of her head. "Seriously;, though," he said when he pulled back, "things; will be okay."  
  
Sydney nodded. "I; still have my doubts. Besides," she said, patting his cheek, "it;'s your job as the best friend to reassure me no matter what the circumstances."  
  
"I; know," Will said sincerely, "but; your mom's like you, isn't she? Brave super spy who can get out of any mess and hardly break a sweat."  
  
Sydney smiled and blushed.  
  
"She;'s fine, Syd. You have to believe that."  
  
"Thanks.;" Sydney gave him a peck on the cheek, grabbed her coat and left.


	3. Three: Undesirable News

**Undesirable News  
  
  
  
**

Sydney drove well under the speed limit as she made her way to the CIA. She was nervous about what she might learn when she arrived. Chills coursed through her body and she turned on the heat, even though she knew it wouldn't help.  
  
She felt tears form in her eyes and sobs begin to rise in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard and struggled to keep the tears at bay as she pulled into a vacant space and killed the engine.  
  
She sat for a moment, staring at the building in front of her, her stomach twisting into a remarkably tight knot. She finally worked up the courage to get out of her car and go inside, and when she entered, a deathly silence fell over the room.  
  
Something wasn't right.  
  
She made her way through the rotunda trying to ignore the stares from the agents around her as she looked for Kendall.  
  
Someone pulled her aside and she gasped as she turned to see whom it had been.  
  
Her father.  
  
"Dad;—" Her eyes were wide and glistening as she anticipated the (hopefully good) news.  
  
"Sydney;," Jack said firmly, cutting her off before she could say more, "it; appears the Panama mission was a failure."  
  
Sydney's eyes darkened considerably and Jack saw the pain and worry etched into them clear as day. "What; do you mean?" she asked timidly.  
  
"Sydney;, your mother took the Rambaldi book."  
  
Sydney's lip trembled and she took a step backwards, her hand finding the edge of a wall on which she attempted to steady herself. "So; is she working with Sloane?" Sydney asked quietly.  
  
Jack nodded solemnly. "It; would appear that way."  
  
Sydney suddenly felt sick. "I; trusted her."  
  
"I; know."  
  
Sydney clenched her fists as she slowly regained her strength. "She; told me she loved me."  
  
Jack sighed and took a tentative step towards his daughter, trying to decide if now was the time to embrace and comfort her.  
  
"How; could I have trusted that woman?" Sydney asked, her voice breaking as she started to cry. "How; could I have thought that she would have changed?" She gripped the wall tightly as it was the only thing preventing her from collapsing. "How; could I have been so stupid?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
Before replying, Jack took a moment to stare into his daughter's eyes. The fluorescent lights had made her tears all the more obvious and had made her eyes appear to be a dark amber color, considerably lighter than their usual chocolate brown. Jack saw in them fear, vulnerability, and even shame at Sydney's belief that she was a fool for falling into the trap set by Irina. His voice was soft yet stern as he spoke.  
  
"Sydney;, neither one of us could have predicted that Irina would betray us—again. There had been no signs to indicate that she had something planned."  
  
"Dad;, you didn't trust her from the start. You had your suspicions and they turned out to be correct. I foolishly began to trust her, eager to rebuild what we had. You were right when you said that I wanted a mother. But I should have known better," Sydney shook her head sadly, "and; I fell right into her trap."  
  
Jack focused his eyes of stone on Sydney and noticed that her eyes had hardened. He could see that she was angry now, partially at herself, partially at Irina, and partially at him—frustration—most likely because she thought that he had had more sense when it came to Irina, that he had never thought her trustworthy. He couldn't have her think that when he was just as naïve and trusting as she had been, maybe even more so.  
  
"We; both made a mistake in trusting her," he said firmly.  
  
Sydney shook her head vigorously and set her jaw. "You; didn't, _I_ did. You never trusted her."  
  
Jack clenched his teeth. "Yes;, I did."  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. "When;?"  
  
"In; Panama." He watched Sydney's eyes widen. "The; night before she was supposed to meet with Sloane, we—" he cleared his throat, "—picked up where we left off."  
  
Sydney felt her knees buckle and she grasped the wall again. She looked down for a moment, then back up, staring into her father's eyes, finally learning just how manipulative her mother could be, especially on a man as tightly guarded as Jack Bristow. When Sydney finally spoke, her voice was dripping with venom.  
  
"I; want to kill her. I want to make her suffer for everything she did to us."  
  
Jack's eyes softened and took on a look of understanding. He saw Sydney's shoulders shake and he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He held her as she buried her head in his chest and her body shook with sobs. He could handle the fact that Irina had fooled him, but it was hard for him to accept what she had done to his daughter. If Sydney wanted to make her mother suffer, he would be more than happy to let her. Anything that would provide her the comfort of knowing that Irina would never be able to hurt anyone again.  
  
"What;'s the earliest we could get a team together to go find her?" Sydney asked, pulling away from her father.  
  
"Tonight;," Jack told her. "But; first, we have a briefing to go to. Apparently, we've received some new intel."  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, wiping her eyes. "Dad;?" she asked as her father began to head towards the briefing room.  
  
Jack stopped and turned back to his daughter, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly. Sydney glanced around nervously and stepped closer to him so she wouldn't have to talk very loud.  
  
"I; can't remember the last time I ever told you I love you," she said with a sigh. "With; all you've done for me, Dad, I want you to know that I love you." Sydney smiled at her father, warming his heart more than she could ever know.  
  
Jack felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to moisten a bit, but not enough so that Sydney could see. He swallowed and hoped his voice wouldn't fail him when he tried to speak. His mouth turned up in the tiniest of smiles.  
  
"I; love you too, sweetheart."  
  
Sydney smiled again, truly touched that her relationship with her father was steadily improving. She walked towards him and he put an arm around her shoulders as they made their way to the briefing room.


	4. Four: Briefing

**Briefing  
  
  
  
**

Sydney took a seat next to her father and scanned the room, checking to see whom was in attendance. Her gaze settled on Dixon for a moment and they exchanged smiles. Sydney still felt guilty over everything that had happened regarding him and SD-6, and hoped that they would eventually be able to have their old friendship back.  
  
She continued to look around the room and noticed that Vaughn was sitting across from her. She raised an eyebrow at him so as to ask him how he had gotten here so fast.  
  
Vaughn mouthed "Quick; shower," then gave her a small smile.  
  
Sydney nodded and looked around once more, noting that Marshall was absent as well as their ringleader Kendall. A moment later though, Kendall entered and Sydney turned her head towards him as he walked to the head of the table.  
  
"I; have some good news," he announced with one of 'so-what-if-something-great-happened-we-still-have-a-shitload-of-work-to-do' smiles. "Thanks; to the tracking device we put on one of the pages of the Rambaldi book, we were able—"  
  
Sydney cut Kendall off. "You; put a tracking device on the Rambaldi book?"  
  
"Yes;," Kendall said, irritated and desperately trying to not roll his eyes. "Marshall; made it for us last week."  
  
As if on cue, Marshall entered the room looking adorably flustered. "Sorry; I'm uh, late, I was playing this really cool new version of Tetris that I programmed. You're probably thinking, 'Uh, Marshall, how could have created a new version of Tetris? It's just falling blocks.' Well, I added—"  
  
"Marshall;, please," Kendall said, growing tense.  
  
"Sorry; sir, I'm just uh, _really_ excited." He was smiling one of his typical 'doesn't-this-make-me-so-huggable' smiles and his eyes were shining. He glanced at Kendall and his smile quickly faded. He sat down, his cheeks beet red, and looked around nervously at the other people in the room, his gaze inevitably landing on Sydney who had on one of her so-warm-and-beautiful-you-could-cry smiles aimed at Marshall.  
  
"Where; was I?" Kendall asked to no one in particular, his forehead wrinkling.  
  
"The; tracking device on the Rambaldi book," Vaughn supplied automatically.  
  
"Yes;, the tracking device that Marshall made," Kendall said, recalling what he had been speaking about, then instantly regretting mentioning Marshall because he knew it would give Marshall another opportunity to speak.  
  
Marshall stood up, all smiles, and began to explain his creation. "Okay;, now this is _really_ incredible. It's really useful in sticky situations, which is appropriate because it's even better than the liquid one I made a while back and it's, well, sticky. This one, you just spread it on whatever you want to follow, in this case it would be one of the pages of the Rambaldi book and it's completely undetectable." He pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to the group. "Cool; huh? It's like a glue stick, I couldn't get the stuff to not be sticky, but it's still barely, if at all, noticeable." Marshall sat down quickly to avoid any comments from Kendall and noticed that Sydney had the back of her hand against her mouth as she stifled a giggle. Marshall blushed and smiled.  
  
"All; right, well, let's try to get through this meeting before the big vein in my head pops," Kendall said sardonically.  
  
Sydney was grateful that her hand was still in front of her face because she was now sporting a huge grin. She glanced at Vaughn who also had his hand blocking his mouth and at her father out of the corner of her eye who was wearing a tiny 'Jack Bristow' smile. Sydney suddenly felt a strong pang of admiration in her chest. She thought of her mother, how the woman could have betrayed a man so guarded but yet so willing to give his heart. It hurt Sydney that her mother could take advantage of her father's virtues.  
  
Her smile had long since faded and she had her gaze focused on the table in front of her. She had her hands at her sides and she set her jaw as she clenched her hands into fists and her whole body tensed. Kendall was speaking and, despite her anger and anticipation in wanting to destroy her mother, Sydney was actually comprehending what he was saying.  
  
Jack was listening as well, his gaze focused on Kendall. For a moment though, he glanced at his daughter and was pained to see that she seemed to be more upset than before. His eyes fell on her tense jaw line, her rigid back, and her clenched fists. Silently, he reached out a hand and grasped one of her fists. He pried open her hand and held it in his, watching as her body relaxed, including her face muscles, her back, and her other fist.  
  
Sydney felt at ease and gripped her father's hand tightly, then released it, letting him know that she was okay. She drowned out Kendall's voice after that, and was surprised to hear him address her.  
  
"Miss; Bristow?"  
  
"Yes;?" Sydney asked, snapping her head up to gaze at Kendall.  
  
_Damn Murphy's Law.  
_  
"Did; you hear what I said?"  
  
Sydney was silent for a moment. "I; uh—"  
  
Vaughn chimed in, "So; sir, Sydney, Jack, and Dixon are going to Sloane's villa in Tuscany to try and obtain the Rambaldi book and eliminate Sloane, Sark, and Derevko?"  
  
Sydney's heart skipped a beat. There it was again—a reference to the man she secretly desired. She thanked Vaughn with a smile for preventing her from looking like an ass in front of Kendall, before her thoughts turned to Sark again. She would have a chance with Sark on this mission, and it was the only chance she would get, as she, her father, and Dixon had been assigned to eliminate him as well as Sloane and her mother.  
  
If she was able to make it work, she would be on the run for the rest of her life because Sark was an enemy of the United States. She wanted so badly for—by some bizarre twist of fate—Sark to be on their side, working in opposition to Sloane.  
  
Warmth spread through her body and her face was flushed with arousal. A content sigh escaped her lips and she momentarily froze. Her attraction to Sark was steadily increasing and, once again, she found herself afraid of how badly she wanted and needed him—  
  
_Inside me.  
  
_She dismissed that thought. She wanted and needed Sark for more than just sex.  
  
_That's new.  
  
_Sydney tensed. She barely even knew Sark and practically every time they had been within ten feet of each other they were attempting to end the other's life. But she still felt something strong towards him.  
  
_Could it be—  
  
_Love?


	5. Five: Suspicion

**Suspicion  
  
  
  
**

Sydney drove home that afternoon to pack. Will was gone, presumably at work, but Francie was home.  
  
"Hey; Fran," Sydney said with a warm smile when she saw her friend in the kitchen.  
  
"Hello; Sydney," Francie replied with a tight smile.  
  
Sydney frowned a bit and tilted her head to one side as she looked at her friend. "Are; you okay?" she asked, biting her lip.  
  
Francie narrowed her eyes at her and frowned. "Of; course. Why do you ask?"  
  
Sydney shoved her hands into her pockets and shrugged. "I; don't know, you've just been acting a bit weird lately, you know? I mean, you just haven't been all that friendly, I guess."  
  
"Oh;," Francie said simply, still frowning. "Well;, maybe it's the thing with Will." She shrugged. "I;'ve had a lot on my mind, and I'm nervous because he and I are friends and I don't want to ruin our friendship with a relationship. Not that I don't like being with him. He's a good guy." Francie shot Sydney a big fake smile.  
  
"Yeah;, he is," Sydney said, smiling back.  
  
Francie decided to change the subject. "Speaking; of good guys, from what I've seen of your boyfriend, he seems like a good guy, too. You're lucky to have him."  
  
Sydney bit her lip and nodded. A feeling of uneasiness settled in her stomach. She needed to end things with Vaughn if she ever wanted something to happen with Sark.  
  
_Assuming things go well with this mission, that is.  
  
_Sydney sighed. It was quite possible that Sark could end up dead before she got a chance to confess her feelings for him. She suddenly stiffened.  
  
_What if he doesn't feel the same way?  
_  
She swallowed hard. She figured he had to, though, just in the way their sarcastic banter had always played out. They always seemed to be testing the other, see if he or she would let his or her guard down and open up. Neither one ever did, but Sydney knew that it was time. There was something there, something that could develop into something great if given the chance.  
  
_I have a chance.  
  
_"What;?" Francie's voice shook Sydney from her thoughts.  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows at her friend. "What;?" she asked in a confused tone.  
  
Francie gave her a small lopsided grin. "You;'ve been staring at me for the past two minutes, deep in thought."  
  
Sydney blushed and quickly averted her gaze to the floor. "Oh;, uh, no, I was just—"  
  
"—Thinking," Francie finished.  
  
"Maybe;," Sydney conceded, scuffing her shoe.  
  
Francie lifted her hand and moved her wrist in a circular motion. "About...;?"  
  
"Nothing;," Sydney said quickly.  
  
"Sydney;, I see right through you," Francie said with a laugh. She thought wryly, 'If you only knew how true that statement is.' "Let; me guess," Francie continued, "you; were thinking about your guy."  
  
_Yes, except he's not really mine yet...  
  
_Sydney bit her tongue to keep that response from rolling off of it. Instead, she nodded and smiled broadly as she tried to ignore the knot that had just formed in her stomach as another lie that would be added to the dozens that she had already told poured out of her mouth. "Yeah;, I was thinking about him."  
  
"Awww;," Francie purred, and Sydney laughed.  
  
"Hey; listen," Sydney began after a moment, "I; have to go pack. I have another trip." She gave Francie a sad smile.  
  
Francie rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Sydney;, you have to quit that damn job of yours."  
  
Sydney laughed a little and shook her head. "I; can't quit my job."  
  
"Sure; you can," Francie insisted, "you; can get a job as a banker anywhere. What's so special about this place?"  
  
Sydney shrugged. "I; just like it, that's all. Plus, I've been working there for so long, it would suck to have to start over somewhere else. Besides, I'm used to it."  
  
Francie sighed and gave a careless shrug of her shoulders. "Suit; yourself."  
  
Sydney glanced down at the floor, feeling guilt pile up on top of more guilt. She not only had the whole Sark thing to worry about, along with what could happen with Vaughn, but now she had the whole 'my-best-friend-is-worried-about-me-with-this-damn-job-and-as-much-as-I-want-to-tell-her-the-truth-about-what-I-do-I-can't' problem. She swallowed hard and stepped forward to give Francie a hug, which she noted that Francie didn't seem too excited about. She attributed it to the conversation they had just had, but she couldn't help but wonder why Francie, someone who hugged people for the hell of it, was giving her—the best friend, no less—a half-assed hug.  
  
Francie broke the hug and moved a few errant strands of hair away from Sydney's face. Sydney was suddenly calm, forgetting about the half-assed hug and focusing on the almost motherly act of Francie touching her hair and gently tucking it behind her ear.  
  
"I; have to get back to the restaurant, my employees are probably lost without me." She gave Sydney a wink and a smile and Sydney smiled back. "Love; you, Syd."  
  
"Love; you."  
  
Sydney watched as Francie grabbed her coat and left then sighed as she wandered to her bedroom to pack. She tugged her suitcase from her closet and tossed it onto her bed, then began raiding through the clothes she had and flinging some onto the bed. She went to her dresser and selected some undergarments, purposely making sure she grabbed a pair of black panties and a black bra, a grin spreading across her face, and heat seeping into her cheeks.  
  
She carefully folded everything, all the while thinking about Francie and how badly she wanted to spill her guts about her job. But she knew she couldn't, so she chased the idea out of her head before she could seriously consider it and risk landing herself in prison for revealing secrets that could threaten national security.  
  
Instead, she tried thinking of something else.  
  
_Sark.  
  
_She rolled her eyes. Of _course,_ Sark had to pop into her head. Not that she was complaining, but she had enough to worry about right now than to think of his soft, smooth tongue starting at her lips and working its way down her neck, over her breasts and stomach, and down to—  
  
_Ugh.  
  
_Sydney shook her head, forcing the image to retreat to the back of her mind. She closed her suitcase with a sharp exhale of breath and dragged it on its wheels to the door where she grabbed her coat and keys and headed for her car.


	6. Six: Unwarranted Guilt

**Unwarranted Guilt  
  
  
  
**

Sydney had barely stepped out onto the front porch when someone wrapped her up in an embrace and led her back inside.  
  
"Vaughn;," Sydney mumbled as the person in question rained kisses on her neck and began to fumble with the buttons on her shirt. "Vaughn;, stop."  
  
Vaughn stopped what he was doing, allowing Sydney to step back, putting some distance between them.  
  
"Sydney;, what's wrong?"  
  
_We need to end this.  
  
_"We; need to end this," Sydney said slowly, looking Vaughn in the eye and voicing what her mind told her to say.  
  
"Why;?"  
  
_Because I'm not in love with you.  
  
_"I; can't do this," she said quietly, ignoring the voice.  
  
"But; _why,_ Syd?" Vaughn questioned, his forehead creasing.  
  
_Because I'm not in love with you.  
  
_Sydney ignored the voice again and silently wished that Vaughn could hear what she was thinking so she wouldn't have to say it aloud.  
  
"Sydney;, I need a reason," Vaughn pleaded.  
  
Sydney could hear Vaughn's voice breaking and she considered telling him to forget everything she had just said and go back to the way things were. But she knew she couldn't.  
  
_I'm too far along now and I don't want to go back. I have to do this.  
  
_"Vaughn;," she began slowly, taking a deep breath, "I;'m not in love with you."  
  
_I'm in love with Sark.  
  
_Sydney had to bite her tongue to prevent that response from slipping out.  
  
Vaughn stared at her for a few moments, seeing her tense shoulders relax and her sigh of relief. Those things alone were what convinced him that she had gotten something huge off her chest and made him realize that she wasn't lying to him.  
  
"You; know I love you, though, right?" Vaughn asked softly.  
  
Sydney nodded and Vaughn pondered this for a minute. "Vaughn;, don't make this harder than it already is." She exhaled sharply. "Please.;"  
  
"Okay;," Vaughn said, his voice low and rough from the sobs he harbored in the back of his throat. "I; guess this is it, then."  
  
"Yeah;, I suppose it is," Sydney said, gazing into his eyes.  
  
Vaughn nodded and Sydney instantly felt guilty when she saw a tear glistening in his eye. She clenched her jaw. She shouldn't feel guilty. She didn't love him and that was the truth. She wasn't about to live a lie when there was someone else that she loved.  
  
_Sark.  
  
_Warmth spread through her, as always, just at the thought of him. That helped reconfirm that she wasn't in love with Vaughn. Whenever Vaughn popped into her head or was near, she never felt like this. She didn't feel anything at all, and it made her wonder why—why a love as strong as what Vaughn felt towards her could be one-sided. But she knew why it was that way. She knew exactly why she didn't love Vaughn.  
  
_I'm in love with Sark.  
  
_Vaughn's voice tore her from her thoughts. "Good; luck in Tuscany. I guess I'll see you when you get back." He stepped forward and gave her an awkward hug.  
  
"We; can still be friends, can't we, Vaughn?" she asked suddenly, her voice filled with hope. "We; have a strong friendship and I would hope that our failed attempt at a relationship hasn't ruined that." Sydney bit her lip nervously.  
  
"Yeah;, Syd. Of course we can still be friends. I'm not about to destroy an incredible friendship just because we decided that a romantic relationship wouldn't work." Vaughn gave her a small smile. "I;'ll see you when you get back."  
  
"See; you."  
  
Vaughn left.  
  
Sydney waited until she heard the engine roar to life and the car drive off before she grabbed her suitcase again and walked out the door.  
  
  
Sydney arrived at the CIA a few minutes later and received some last-minute instructions before she, her father, and Dixon boarded the cargo plane that would take them to Tuscany. She laid her suitcase next to her and leaned up against the side of the plane, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She stared at an invisible spot on the floor.  
  
Jack and Dixon engaged in small talk for a while before Dixon announced that he was going to get some sleep. Jack agreed and Dixon retreated to a quiet corner of the plane.  
  
Jack turned and looked for Sydney and spotted her staring off into space. "Sydney;," he said gently, and she looked up, her doe eyes wide. He sighed when she looked down again and got up from his seat to go sit next to her.  
  
Sydney remained silent although she knew that her father wanted her to tell him what was wrong. She took a deep breath and finally spoke. "I; broke up with Vaughn."  
  
Jack gave a short chuckle. "I; didn't even know you were dating."  
  
Sydney swallowed. "Yeah;, we sort of began something after SD-6 was destroyed."  
  
Jack nodded and stared down at his lap. "What; happened?"  
  
Sydney frowned. "Well;, quite simply, I don't love him."  
  
"I; see," Jack murmured. "How; long did it take you to realize it?"  
  
"Not; that long. I mean, we were doing fine, I suppose, but then it was kind of sudden, and I just realized that my feelings for him weren't those of love. They were—" She shrugged and lowered her voice, suddenly a bit embarrassed, "—physical attraction."  
  
"I; see," Jack murmured again, not knowing quite what else to say as his daughter had practically just told him that she had just been casually fucking Vaughn.  
  
Sydney spoke again. "So; anyway, I realized that I didn't love him and ended it."  
  
_Because I'm in love with Sark.  
_  
Jack looked over at his daughter and saw that she was looking down at her hands resting in her lap. "Are; you all right?"  
  
Sydney looked up and gave her father a small, reassuring smile. "I;'m fine. It's just—I can't help but wonder if I made the right decision, you know? Like if I should have given it a little more time, and maybe I would have been able to open up and love him." She almost rolled her eyes.  
  
_How lame. But I can't exactly tell him I'm in love with an assassin, now can I?  
_  
"Well;, love does take time," Jack told her, "but; if you already realized that you don't love him, then you would have been a fool to stay in the relationship to see if things would change. You would already know that they wouldn't change, and you would not only be wasting your time, but you'd be wasting Vaughn's as well. Not to mention, letting him think there was something there when there wasn't."  
  
Sydney suddenly cracked up.  
  
"What;?" Jack asked, his tone serious and a bit irritated.  
  
"You;," she said, still laughing, "you;, Jack Bristow of all people, giving out romantic advice."  
  
Jack smiled a little. "Doesn;'t really seem like something I would do, does it?"  
  
"Not; really," Sydney said, grinning.  
  
Jack's smile grew wider until Sydney could actually see some of his teeth. She started laughing again.  
  
"This; is one for the record books. You're giving me advice on my love life, and you're smiling to the point of where I can actually see your teeth." Sydney grinned broadly at him and joshingly elbowed him.  
  
This only caused Jack to start laughing. "Maybe; the smile couldn't go in the record books, but I'm sure there's a camera lying around."  
  
Sydney laughed again and wiped her eyes, as tears of laughter had started to spill out of them. She looked at her father suddenly, her eyes serious. "Dad;?"  
  
"Yes;?"  
  
"Thanks.;"  
  
"Of; course."  
  
Sydney smiled and leaned her head on her father's shoulder when he put an arm around her. Not more than a few minutes later, they had both drifted off to sleep.


	7. Seven: Confrontation

**Confrontation  
  
  
  
**

Jack awakened first and gently nudged Sydney as Dixon came to retrieve them after the plane had touched down. They grabbed their equipment (read: automatic weapons) and their luggage and exited the plane.  
  
A shiny black Suburban awaited them and they walked towards it. Dixon had the keys and he unlocked the doors.  
  
"Thank; God they didn't stick us with a Ford Focus," Sydney mumbled.  
  
"What;?" Jack asked.  
  
"Nothing;," Sydney replied, slinging her weapon and suitcase into the back of the SUV, but keeping a small handgun in her belt.  
  
Dixon climbed into the driver's seat, Jack got shotgun, and Sydney sat in the middle row in the backseat.  
  
"So; we're definitely using lethal force?" Sydney asked, wanting to confirm the mission's objective.  
  
"Yes;," Jack replied as they drove.  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said with a nod, settling back in her seat. "Let; me know when we get there. I need to take another nap." With that, she propped her elbow against the door and rested her cheek against her hand, conking out rather quickly.  
  
Jack and Dixon glanced over their shoulders at Sydney and exchanged smiles as the journey wore on.  
  
  
"We;'re here, Sydney," Jack told his daughter as he gently shook her awake. He was already out of the car and had his gun slung over his shoulder. "Wake; up, sweetheart."  
  
Sydney nodded and sat up, rolling her head back on her shoulders to work out the kinks in her neck. She took off her seat belt and jumped out of the car, taking the gun that Jack held out to her.  
  
"So; this is it," she began, "after; today I won't have a mother."  
  
Jack and Dixon exchanged glances and sighed.  
  
"Some; life this spy crap is, huh?" Sydney said with a dry laugh. She looked over her shoulder at the two men who stood behind her. "Let;'s get this over with."  
  
  
The three had begun a slow pace in walking up to the villa. They were all a bit uneasy about the idea of killing people in what would most likely be cold blood since they had the advantage of surprise, and weren't in a hurry to speed up the process.  
  
Sydney sighed and ran her fingertips over the cool surface of the gun as the cold night air nipped at her nose, cheeks, and ears.  
  
Instinctively, Jack and Dixon had moved ahead of Sydney as if to shield her with their bodies if there was a sudden threat. Both men were more than willing to risk their lives for her.  
  
They finally made it up to the front doors of the mansion. Having no clue as to what security Sloane might have, they knew they would had no choice but to take a chance. Dixon used a lock pick to unlock one of the doors.  
  
The three cocked their guns and stormed into the house, looking in all directions. The foyer was empty.  
  
"Let;'s split up," Sydney suggested. "You; guys go upstairs, I'll take the ground floor."  
  
Dixon nodded and started for the stairs. Jack reluctantly agreed and planted a kiss on the top of Sydney's head before following Dixon.  
  
Sydney carefully roamed the ground floor and a major feeling of uneasiness swept over her.  
  
_What if Sark is upstairs?  
  
_She swallowed and continued searching the ground floor. She checked out the kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms, and coat closets and found nothing. She wandered back out into the front foyer and suddenly went sprawling on the floor, her gun sliding across the hardwood, about ten feet away from her. She gasped and pushed herself up to her knees and looked around trying to see what she had tripped over.  
  
Her eyes fell on a couple of loosened floorboards. She crawled over to them and realized that they were part of a trapdoor. She carefully lifted it up and peered down, seeing a network of underground tunnels.  
  
"Oh; my God," she murmured. She closed the trapdoor and ran to the stairs, nursing her left ankle, which she twisted a bit from her fall. She saw her father and Dixon making their way towards her. "I; found a trapdoor," she said quickly, catching her breath, "I; think they're down there."  
  
"All; right, let's go," Jack said.  
  
Sydney took the lead and Jack noticed her limping a little. He touched her shoulder and asked what happened.  
  
"I; tripped over the loosened floorboards that make up the trapdoor and I twisted my ankle a little." Sydney gave her father a reassuring smile when he eyed her suspiciously, not believing that she should continue in her condition. "I;'m fine, Dad. Really."  
  
Jack nodded and the three took off towards the trapdoor. Dixon climbed down the somewhat rickety ladder first, Jack second, and Sydney last. Dixon began to outline a game plan when Sydney put a finger to her lips and stood, silent, her ears perked up.  
  
Jack and Dixon were silent as well, trying to hear what Sydney was hearing. Sydney took a step forward after a moment and motioned behind her for Jack and Dixon to follow. All three spies readied their guns and took a few steps forward.  
  
Sydney heard her mother's voice and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp when she heard Sark's voice. Her heart skipped a beat with Sark's velvety smooth British accent and her knees suddenly felt weak.  
  
_I can't think about this now.  
_  
Unfortunately, she couldn't hear what either person was saying, but she could discern from their voices that they seemed to be angry. At whom or what, she wasn't sure. She listened more closely, trying to see if she could hear Sloane's voice.  
  
She didn't.  
  
Sloane wasn't there.  
  
_Where the hell is he?  
  
_Sydney swallowed hard and began to walk towards the voices, her father and Dixon following close behind. She suddenly stopped and pulled her handgun from her belt. She motioned for Dixon and her father to take one of the other tunnels to corner her mother and Sark so that they couldn't escape. The two men agreed to this with quick nods then left Sydney standing there. She took a few steps forward when her father and Dixon were out of sight and rounded a corner. She stood there for a moment, letting her mother and Sark realize her presence and turn towards her.  
  
Everything happened in slow motion after that. Sydney raised the gun as her mother opened her mouth as if to try to explain. Sydney saw a thousand emotions in both her mother and Sark's eyes and a shiver ran down her spine. She stared into her mother's eyes for a moment and recalled the words she had spoken to her father before the briefing.  
  
_"I; want to kill her. I want to make her suffer for everything she did to us."  
_  
She knew what she had to do. No matter what the consequences of her actions might be. She clenched her teeth, pulled the hammer back, and fired.


	8. Eight: False Pretenses

**False Pretenses  
  
  
  
**

Sydney's grip on the gun loosened until the gun almost fell from her hand, when she tightened her hold just enough to keep it from slipping. She watched her mother crumple to the floor from the bullet wound.  
  
_One shot. Left shoulder. Like she did to me.  
  
_Sydney had purposely shot her mother in the shoulder not only for the irony factor but because she wanted to make her mother suffer, let her die slowly. Sydney glanced at Sark who had fallen to his knees and was attempting to dress the wound with his button-down shirt.  
  
"Stand; up," she commanded him.  
  
Sark did as he was told and fixed Sydney with a death stare.  
  
"Why; did you do it, Sydney?" he asked.  
  
Sydney's hands were sweating from being so nervous but she tried not to take notice and instead took a step towards Sark. She briefly wondered how the hell she was going to have the relationship she wanted with Sark now that she had just shot someone he trusted.  
  
_Trust. Speaking of which, Sark and I don't trust each other for shit. If we could somehow—  
  
_Sark's voice snapped her from her thoughts. "I;'ll ask you again. Why did you do it, Sydney?"  
  
Sydney lifted her chin. "Irina; Derevko betrayed the United States Government. She betrayed my father." Sark's eyes seemed to soften. "She; betrayed me."  
  
"Sark;, tell her," Irina whispered hoarsely.  
  
Sark gave a quick nod and Sydney narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
_Tell me what?  
  
_"Sark;, what is she talking about?" Sydney asked, her voice rough.  
  
Sark cleared his throat and pursed his lips. Though it was clearly not the time, Sydney thought for a quick second what it would be like to chew on Sark's adorably crooked bottom lip. This was the effect he had on her. At the most inappropriate times, he could make Sydney swoon.  
  
"Sydney;," Sark began, "your; mother did not betray anyone."  
  
Sydney scoffed, trying to keep her icy exterior in place so that Sark couldn't see the effect he had on her. "You; are such a liar."  
  
Sydney mentally slapped herself for blurting out that sentence.  
  
_What if he isn't lying?  
  
_"Sydney;," Sark said again, nearly making Sydney melt because of his smooth tone, "your; mother and I are working together to bring down Sloane."  
  
"You;'re lying," Sydney whispered in disbelief.  
  
_He can't be serious. Sark and my mother working against Sloane? Granted, they worked together in the past, but this—  
  
_"Sounds; too good to be true, doesn't it?" Sark said with a smirk, unconsciously completing Sydney's unspoken thought.  
  
Sydney felt her shoulders shaking. "You; mean you had been pretending to be Sloane's ally this whole time? When in fact you were playing along and planning on coming up with a strategy to break my mother out of CIA custody?"  
  
Sark frowned. "I; worked with Sloane to gather all the information on Rambaldi that I could. I knew your mother did as well, and when I learned that she had recently obtained the Rambaldi book with his study of the human heart, I knew it was the perfect opportunity. It would be two against one, and we would be able to take down Sloane much easier that way."  
  
Sydney swallowed hard, trying to grasp everything. "This; may sound like a stupid question, but what exactly does this mean?"  
  
Sark smirked. "Quite; simply, Ms. Bristow, it means that not only did your mother not betray the CIA, it also means that you and I are not enemies. And frankly, that we never have been."  
  
Sydney swore she heard angels singing somewhere.  
  
Sark continued, "Why; did you think that I was always trying to get to Rambaldi artifacts before you did? I knew that they would end up in the hands of Sloane."  
  
Sydney nodded slowly. "As; crazy as this is, it all makes sense."  
  
"Perfect; sense," Sark added.  
  
"Just; one question," Sydney said slowly.  
  
"Yes;?"  
  
"Did; you get Sloane?"  
  
"No.;"  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows and Sark noticed and was quick to provide an explanation.  
  
"Your; mother and I were supposed to go to Stuttgart to retrieve the genetic database and then meet with Sloane in Zurich to give it to him. Sloane must have sensed that we were not loyal to him because he acquired it before we could. Knowing that he would probably return here with his wife, we came to try and trap him. But he wasn't here."  
  
"Wait;," Sydney started, "did; you just say his 'wife'?"  
  
"Yes;," Sark said, irritation in his voice.  
  
Sydney gasped.  
  
"Why; are you surprised?" Sark asked her, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I; thought Sloane killed Emily to get a seat in the Alliance," Sydney told him.  
  
"No;, that was staged. He put together a whole charade to keep his wife alive, since he was in the process of taking down SD-6 and the Alliance," Sark explained.  
  
"Jesus; Christ," Sydney murmured, holding her forehead in one hand and letting the gun dangle down by her side in her other hand. "I; can't believe this."  
  
Sark spoke again, "You; should also know that your mother and I were able to collect everything Sloane had regarding Rambaldi before he disappeared. I'm not sure how long he'll be able to continue his pursuit of Rambaldi without all of the information he had, so that should make it easy for us to find him."  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and held Sark's gaze for a few moments, seeing his crystal-clear blue eyes staring back at her. She felt tears surge into her own eyes as her gaze fell on her wounded mother and she walked quickly over to her after tucking her gun back into her belt. She knelt down beside her.  
  
"I;'m so sorry, Mom," she choked out as sobs racked her body.  
  
Irina had rolled over onto her back and reached up to touch Sydney's cheek. "It;'s okay, Sydney. You had no way of knowing. I don't blame you for this."  
  
"We; need to get her to a hospital," Sark said quietly, "before; she loses any more blood."  
  
Sydney nodded and stood up. "I; need to find my dad and Dixon and tell them what's going on. Otherwise—"  
  
She was cut off abruptly by her father's voice and the cocking of a gun. "Sydney;!"  
  
Sydney whipped towards her father and saw him raise his assault rifle and take aim at Sark. "Dad;—no!"  
  
Gunshot.


	9. Nine: Discovery

**Discovery  
  
  
  
**

Sydney had knocked Sark to the ground as the shot from Jack's rifle whizzed past. She laid on top of him, panting, recovering from her shock.  
  
"Are; you okay?" she asked, her voice strained.  
  
Sark hesitated a moment before replying coyly, "Perfect.;"  
  
Sydney gave a quick nod and after a moment, her breathing had returned to normal. She found herself staring into Sark's eyes, becoming hypnotized by them.  
  
Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy and her lips had involuntarily parted slightly.  
  
_This is it. This is my chance.  
  
_"Sydney;!" Jack called, jogging up to his daughter.  
  
Sydney scrambled off of Sark and stood up quickly, brushing herself off. She was grateful that the tunnel wasn't well lit, because she knew her face was flushed with arousal. She tried to hide the fact that she was pissed that she didn't get to kiss Sark.  
  
"Sydney;, what the hell is going on?" Jack demanded.  
  
"Dad;, Sark and Mom are on our side," Sydney told him.  
  
"What; are you talking about?"  
  
Sydney shook her head, a little frustrated. "Dad;, it's a long story, and I promise I will explain everything to you later, but right now we need to get Mom to a hospital."  
  
"Why;? What happened?" Jack questioned.  
  
Sydney swallowed hard. "I; shot her."  
  
Jack nodded slowly and glanced at Irina, then at Sark, doing a double take when he saw that for some reason, Sark had on no shirt. But Jack looked back at Irina and saw that Sark had obviously used his shirt to help soak up the blood and he understood.  
  
"I;'ll get Dixon and we'll contact Kendall, explain what happened, and have him direct us to the nearest hospital."  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, "We;'ll wait here."  
  
Jack glared at Sark for a moment, not exactly trusting him, then turned and jogged back down the tunnel.  
  
Sydney sighed heavily and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop shaking. She turned around and went back over to her mother, dropping to her knees. Sark knelt down beside her and picked up his shirt lying on Irina's wound, soaked in blood. It was then that Sydney realized that Sark was shirtless. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, taking in his muscled chest and well-defined abdomen. She sighed a bit and turned back to her mother.  
  
Tears filled her eyes and she lurched forward with the sobs that tore from her. She managed to take off her jacket with some difficulty and put it over the wound. She sat on her knees and held her head in her hands, sobbing.  
  
"I; can't believe I—shot—my own mother," she managed to choke out.  
  
"Sydney;, Sydney," Irina coaxed, grasping one of her daughter's hands and pulling it away from Sydney's face.  
  
Sark tentatively reached a hand up to Sydney's face and gently moved Sydney's other hand away and squeezed it gently. Sydney looked over at Sark, her doe eyes glistening. Sark stared back at her, his soft blue eyes filled with concern. Sydney and Sark looked down at their linked hands at the same time.  
  
Irina watched the exchange carefully and her mouth curved into a smile. It was clear to her that there was an opportunity for love between her daughter and Sark.  
  
It made sense.  
  
Sark had quite literally met his match in Sydney in more ways than one. They were both intelligent, tough, sarcastic, and romantics at heart. They needed each other, probably more than either of them could ever know, no matter what they said.  
  
Just then, Jack came walking briskly down the tunnel with Dixon.  
  
"I; already made contact with Kendall. He gave us directions to the nearest hospital," Jack announced.  
  
Sydney and Sark released one another's hands and stood up. Jack and Dixon carefully lifted Irina up.  
  
"There;'s a ramp that will make it easier for us to get her out," Sark told Jack and Dixon as he helped both of them hold Irina.  
  
"Okay;," Jack said as they began to walk.  
  
"And; if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to make a quick detour to obtain another shirt."  
  
"Of; course," Jack said, as they continued to move.  
  
Sydney stayed behind a moment, watching Sark walk. It was still hard for her to comprehend that Sark was on her side, but she was absolutely relieved that it was okay for her to like him without having to worry about any danger in the fact that he could be her enemy.  
  
Their moment just a couple of minutes before had made her realize that perhaps he had feelings for her as well, that his act of grasping her hand when she was crying wasn't just an act of comforting but an act of love. If that was true, then it would make it that much easier for her to admit her feelings to him.  
  
She started to walk and her steps were light and airy, although she was definitely favoring her left ankle a bit. Her eyes were twinkling, her mouth was turned up in a smile, and her heart was fluttering in her chest.  
  
_I'm in love._  
  
  
A few hours later, Sydney was sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital after she had gotten an x-ray of her ankle and been told that it was just sprained. A doctor had wrapped it for her and given her crutches, which she politely refused, saying she didn't need them. The doctor had raised an eyebrow at her, ready to tell her to take them anyway, but was won over by her dazzling, reassuring smile.  
  
She sat quietly, staring off into space, waiting for her mother to come out of surgery and for the doctor to tell her she could visit.  
  
"Here;," Sark said, startling her. He was holding some coffee.  
  
Sydney lifted her head and Sark frowned at her bloodshot eyes. Sydney managed a weak smile and took the Styrofoam cup that Sark held out to her. Sark sat down in the chair next to her and kept his gaze focused on her. He was aware of the fact that her whole body was trembling and that she looked deathly pale.  
  
"Please; drink that," he said, his voice kind but firm.  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and took a sip. "Thanks;," she said quietly, turning towards him and giving him a small smile.  
  
"You;'re welcome."  
  
Sydney stared down into the cup, looking at her reflection. She sighed and took another drink from it—this one long—and scalded her mouth, as if she wanted to punish herself somehow for what she had done to her mother and she was trying to find any kind of way to do it. Sark took the cup from her before she could scald herself anymore and gave her the "look.;"  
  
The one where one side of his mouth was turned down and his eyes were narrowed and one could tell that he disapproved of what he saw and was biting his tongue to keep from making a comment about his dissatisfaction.  
  
After a moment, when he had caught Sydney's gaze and let her see that he was indeed disappointed with her actions, his eyes softened and he reached a hand up, carefully moving a few strands of hair away from her face, then having to stop himself from stroking her cheek.  
  
He cleared his throat abruptly and turned back around, handing Sydney back the coffee. Sydney felt an aching in her chest. She wanted his hand back where it was—it was comforting to her.  
  
Sydney had to use all her might to restrain herself from just grabbing him and melding her lips to his right there. Instead, she decided she would wait for the right moment. The right moment certainly wasn't in a crowded Tuscan hospital worrying about her mother who was in God-knows-what condition.  
  
She stole a glance at Sark and found him staring straight ahead, a slight blush in his cheeks. He was obviously embarrassed at what had just taken place in the last minute probably because he was afraid to admit he had feelings for her.  
  
Sydney blushed as well and smiled.


	10. Ten: Heart to Heart

**Heart to Heart  
  
  
  
**

"Sydney; Bristow?"  
  
Sydney stood up immediately. "Can; I see her?"  
  
The doctor nodded. "Come; with me."  
  
Sydney glanced at Sark for a moment then began to follow the doctor. "How; is she?" Sydney asked, trying to keep up with the doctor's long strides.  
  
"She;'s doing well, she came out of surgery fine, and she's just resting now," the doctor said with a smile.  
  
Sydney smiled back, feeling a little better.  
  
"Here; we are," the doctor said, using his arm to gesture Sydney into the room. She thanked him and he nodded and left.  
  
"Sydney;," Irina said softly, smiling, "come; sit down."  
  
Sydney felt her throat tighten, the nervousness and guilt coming back to her, but she went to the chair on the left side of her mother's bed all the same. She sat down slowly, suddenly feeling gooseflesh break out everywhere on her body. She shivered and her mother grasped her hand.  
  
"Mom;, I'm so sorry," Sydney whispered, feeling her eyes fill with tears.  
  
"Sydney;," Irina said softly, letting go of her daughter's hand and wrapping her arm around Sydney's shoulders, pulling her closer.  
  
Sydney moved the chair a bit closer and settled her head on her mother's shoulder, crying. She gently took her mother's left hand in both of hers, careful to avoid a great deal of movement because it was on her left that she had been injured.  
  
Irina gently stroked her daughter's back and squeezed her shoulder. She rested her chin atop Sydney's head after pressing her lips to her hair.  
  
"Sydney;, I told you I don't blame you for this," Irina said softly, feeling tears form in her own eyes.  
  
Sydney lifted her head to look at her mother. "I; know, Mom, but it's not going to erase all this guilt I have inside of me."  
  
Irina sighed and frowned, looking far into her daughter's eyes. "Okay;, well, how about this," she began, raising one eyebrow and searching Sydney's glistening doe eyes, "we;'ll call it even."  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth slightly, trying to make sense of what her mother had said. "What; do you mean?"  
  
"I; shot you, you shot me," Irina said with a shrug. "We;'re even."  
  
Sydney tried not to laugh. "Mom;, that's crazy."  
  
"How;?"  
  
"When; you shot me, it was different. You couldn't betray Cuvee or we both would have been killed and shooting me in the shoulder allowed our lives to be spared and me to escape." Sydney swallowed hard and kept her gaze focused on her mother's eyes. "When; I shot you, I did it because I thought you had betrayed the CIA, Dad, and me."  
  
"You; had no way of knowing, Sydney," Irina countered.  
  
"It; doesn't matter," Sydney insisted, shaking her head, "I; intended to exact revenge on you, and I wanted to make you suffer, because I thought that you weren't on our side."  
  
Irina was silent. Hearing her daughter say that she had planned to kill her didn't exactly sit well on her stomach. But she could understand what her daughter must have been going through. After she had told Sydney she loved her and then went off to Panama and appeared to be working with Sloane, it must have made her feel incredibly foolish for even thinking she could trust her.  
  
"I; understand, Sydney," she said finally, and Sydney looked up, a bit surprised. Irina nodded. "But; there's no way we can move past this unless you get over your guilt. There's no reason for you to feel guilty. For all you knew, I _had_ betrayed you and your father and the CIA. I don't blame you for what you did. You shouldn't blame yourself either."  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and leaned her head back on her mother's shoulder, Irina's chin automatically moving into place again atop her head.  
  
"So;," Irina started after a few moments had passed, "tit; for tat?"  
  
Sydney snorted, suddenly consumed by laughter. After a couple of minutes, and her mother laughing with her, Sydney was able to calm down and wipe her eyes, which had filled with tears from laughing so hard.  
  
"Tit; for tat," she agreed.  
  
"That;'s my girl," Irina cooed, causing Sydney to laugh again.  
  
"I; need to tell you something," Sydney said solemnly, her voice just above a whisper.  
  
"Anything;," Irina whispered back, holding Sydney closer.  
  
"Before; you left to go to Panama, you told me you loved me." She heard her mother sigh with content and continued, "I; was in something of a state of shock. I mean, it just meant so much to me to hear you say that. I'm angry at myself for not saying it back, and being a wimp and just saying that you were coming back."  
  
"Babe;, I told you it was okay. I just needed you to know," Irina told her, kissing the top of her head again.  
  
"I; know, Mom, but the truth is, I _wanted_ to say it back. I just couldn't work up the courage. I don't know why, but somehow I just couldn't say it right then." Sydney sighed and sat up a little so she make eye contact with her mother. "But; I can say it now."  
  
Irina felt her throat tighten and the tears already in her eyes threaten to fall with the words she knew Sydney was about to say.  
  
"Mom;," Sydney began, a small smile creeping onto her lips, "I; love you."  
  
Irina wrapped both arms tightly around her daughter, ignoring the dull pain in her left shoulder. Sydney leaned into her mother's embrace, tears of relief spilling from her eyes.  
  
"I; love you, too, babe," Irina whispered into Sydney's hair.  
  
Sydney smiled and a content sigh of relief followed.  
  
"Sydney;, I need to ask you about something," Irina said, and Sydney sat up, looking at her inquisitively. "What; do you think of Sark?"  
  
Sydney's mouth stood agape for a moment.  
  
_He's a great guy. We're so much alike and we complete each other so perfectly it's almost scary. I love him, I do.  
  
_"Uh;, well, I—" Sydney swallowed hard. "Um;—"  
  
"Exactly; what I thought," Irina said, smiling broadly.  
  
"What;?" Sydney asked, her eyes filled with confusion.  
  
Irina stroked Sydney's hair. "Babe;, you can't deny it. It's obvious."  
  
"What; is?" Sydney asked, still confused. Or pretending to be...  
  
Irina frowned and shook her head. "If; that's the way you want it." She looked away and stared at an invisible spot on the wall.  
  
"No;, no," Sydney said, turning her mother's face back towards her. "What; are you talking about?"  
  
"You;'re in love, Sydney."  
  
Sydney blushed deeply and stared at the floor. She couldn't hide it anymore.  
  
"See;?" Irina asked, gently elbowing her. "It;'s clearly written all over your face."  
  
Sydney sighed and looked back up. "I; guess I do have feelings for him," she said with a nonchalant shrug.  
  
Irina gave Sydney's cheek a bit of a strong tap, trying to get Sydney to stop playing her little game. "Sydney;, you're in love with him. I know it, you know it, all you need to do now is see if Sark feels the same way you do."  
  
Sydney scoffed. "I;'m almost afraid to see if he does. But I do want to know." She sighed. "I; mean, in the tunnel, when he held my hand, it just seemed like he wasn't just doing it to comfort me. It seemed like there was something else there."  
  
Irina nodded and smiled. 'She saw it too,' she thought. "Tell; him."  
  
Sydney smiled a little and shrugged. "I; will," she agreed, "at; the right moment."  
  
Irina smiled at this and a comfortable silence ensued. Sydney rested her head on her mother's shoulder again, her eyes feeling heavy as she was emotionally drained. Irina gently ran her fingertips over Sydney's hair, lulling her to sleep.  
  
  
A while later, Sark came to visit, finding mother and daughter sleeping peacefully. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face at the fact that Sydney had apparently been able to forgive herself for what had happened. He walked quietly over to Sydney and just _watched_ her. Watched her eyes flutter from time to time, watched her chest rise and fall with each even breath, watched her unconsciously move closer to her mother, the top of her head brushing underneath Irina's chin as if Sydney was making sure that her mother was still there.  
  
Sark thought about his handholding moment with Sydney and their moment when he moved her hair away from her face. He remembered how her eyes looked. They were shining brightly with some kind of emotion he was hesitant to give a name.  
  
He reached out a hand towards her and gently brushed her cheek, what he had wanted to do earlier in the waiting room. He stroked her high cheekbone, moving his thumb over her smooth, porcelain skin. Sydney emitted a content sigh and Sark felt his knees go weak.  
  
'Amazing,' he thought.  
  
"Sark.;" Irina's voice, low and quiet.  
  
Sark jerked his hand back and looked at Irina.  
  
"You; don't have to pretend," Irina told him, a smile spreading over her lips, "I; saw it in your eyes and my daughter's eyes when we were in the tunnel."  
  
Sark was determined not to let Irina get the best of him. "You; saw what?"  
  
"Love.;"  
  
Sark shook his head. "You; lost a great deal of blood, Irina. Clearly, you're delusional."  
  
"Andrew;," Irina said softly, surprising Sark with her rare use of his first name, "I; can see it. I saw it then and I see it now. It was obvious when you were holding her hand and it was obvious when you were just stroking her cheek."  
  
Sark's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. "I; _thought_ you were asleep."  
  
"Exactly;," Irina said with a grin. "You; 'thought' I was asleep."  
  
Sark sighed and averted his gaze to the floor.  
  
"You; need to tell her," Irina said, chewing on her lip a little, "she; needs to know."  
  
Sark nodded slowly, defeated. "I; know."  
  
"So; tell her," Irina said with a shrug.  
  
"I; will," Sark told her, "when; it's the right moment."  
  
Irina nodded, even more aware of how deep Sark's feelings for her daughter were. He loved her so much he wanted to wait until the absolute perfect moment to tell her. He wanted to do it right, not just any old place at any old time. Plus, Sydney had said the same thing. They really _were_ romantics at heart. She admired them both.  
  
"I;'ll come back later," Sark said, snapping Irina out of her thoughts. "Jack; checked us into a hotel, I'm going to go take a nap for a while after I explain to him exactly what you and I were up to. Sydney said she would explain, but she's sleeping right now, and I know she's too tired to want to put up with any kind of argument Jack may want to start."  
  
Irina nodded, now seeing that Sark wanted to protect Sydney as well. "Have; fun with that," Irina said with a wink, making Sark smile a bit. "See; you later."  
  
Sark nodded and left after running his thumb over Sydney's cheek again and tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.  
  
Irina smiled.


	11. Eleven: Declaration

**Declaration  
  
  
  
**

Sydney awoke just a moment after Sark was leaving the room and she saw him head out the door. She had heard everything he and her mother had said as she was only barely half-asleep. She had fought with all her might not to just jump up and kiss him right there. She knew she had to wait until they both knew it was right.  
  
She stood up quickly and glanced at her mother, who nodded. She smiled, and said, "This; is it."  
  
Irina nodded again, instantly knowing what Sydney meant. She shooed her out of the room and grinned. Sydney grinned back and mouthed a 'thank you' before heading out into the hall.  
  
She took a few cautious steps forward, suddenly nervous. She watched Sark's retreating back and decided she had to do it. She knew when he turned around that he would know exactly what her intentions were, and it would be, indeed, the right moment.  
  
"Sark;!" she called, and watched as he stopped in his tracks. She couldn't see, but a smile had spread over his face.  
  
Sark turned around and stood in place for a moment, perhaps thirty paces from Sydney. Their eyes locked and Sark just knew—this was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment that both of them knew what would happen and they would be able to easily admit what they felt.  
  
They started walking towards one another at the same time, their steps tentative at first, then quicker, until they finally reached one another and crashed into each other's arms, their lips melding together in an urgent kiss.  
  
Sydney felt warm and tingly all over. It had been too long since she had felt that feeling with anyone. She thread her fingers through Sark's wavy blond mop, twisting her fingers around the unruly curls at the nape of his neck.  
  
Sark wrapped his arms around Sydney, drinking her in. He moved one hand up to her face to rest his palm on her cheek then slowly guided his fingers through her chestnut locks as his other hand rested on her back. He was amazed at how much he really did love her and was absolutely relieved that, at least judging by this phenomenal kiss, that she loved him as well.  
  
They pulled back slightly at the same time, breathless, peering into each other's eyes, in awe of what was happening between them. They smiled at each other and Sydney wrapped her arms around Sark's neck and pressed herself against him as his arms tightened around her, holding her as if he were afraid to let go.  
  
The next kiss was slower, more passionate, and they felt more connected to each other than ever. Sydney swore she heard doctors and nurses talking about the public display of affection, scoffing and announcing how ridiculous it was, and she fought the urge to flip them off.  
  
This was her time. Her moment. With her man. There was no way a bunch of petty nurses and doctors were going to ruin it for her, even if she and Sark _were_ making out in the middle of a public hospital.  
  
_This is certainly one to tell the kids, 'Your father and I shared our first kiss in a hospital in Tuscany shortly after I shot my own mother.'  
_  
Sydney fought the urge to laugh, but had to pull back from Sark because she was about to crack up. Sark looked at her curiously then joined her in her laughter, hardly caring what was so funny, but just relishing being able to do something she was doing and that they were doing it together.  
  
Sark took her hand as they were still laughing and led her out into the waiting room, then out of the hospital. He pulled her to him, kissing her again, wrapping his arms around her. When they separated, Sydney looked up at him and smiled, before resting her head on his chest, savoring the closeness she had with Sark.  
  
"God;, I love you," she whispered into his chest, "I; love you so damn much it physically hurts."  
  
"I; love you too, Sydney," Sark whispered into her hair before pressing his lips to the top of her head.  
  
"Promise; me this won't end," Sydney said quietly, pushing her head up into the crook of his neck and feeling Sark's cheek against hers.  
  
"I; promise, Sydney," Sark told her, hugging her tighter, "I; won't let anything ruin this for us."  
  
"Have; you ever felt love this strong?" Sydney asked, pulling back so she could look in his eyes.  
  
Sark shook his head. "No;, this is the first time."  
  
"Me; too," Sydney said, settling back into his embrace. "Let;'s go to the hotel," she whispered.  
  
"Are; you sure?" Sark asked, wanting to make sure the relationship didn't move faster than it needed to move.  
  
"I;'m positive," Sydney said smiling, reaching up to his face and pulling his head down to kiss him. "I; need this. _We_ need this."  
  
Sark nodded.  
  
Sydney grinned. "So; let's do it."  
  
  
Sark opened the door to his room and pulled Sydney inside with him, carelessly slamming the door shut as Sydney pushed him backwards, beginning to strip him of his clothing as she kissed him torturously.  
  
Sark shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it aside, then carefully unbuttoned Sydney's shirt and pulled it down off her shoulders.  
  
In the heat of their passion, it only took a minute for all other material barriers to be discarded then Sark led Sydney to the bed.  
  
He laid on top of her, his hands running over her curves and his mouth connecting with any part of her he could reach. Sometime during the middle of all this, Sydney voiced her desire in Sark's ear and he graciously complied.  
  
Sark slid inside slowly, letting Sydney adjust. Before long, they were moving together, their rhythm perfectly in sync, proving further just how much they completed each other.  
  
Soon, they had both gone over the edge, crying out their passion, then holding one another until their breathing returned to normal. Sark trailed kisses up Sydney's neck to nibble on her ear, then moved to her jaw line, finally letting his lips find hers in a long, deep kiss.  
  
Sark slipped onto his side, taking Sydney into his arms and burying his face in the crook of her neck. His fingertips lightly grazed her stomach and Sydney sighed with content as she covered Sark's hands with her own, then thread her fingers through his.  
  
"I; wonder what would have happened if we had figured this out a long time ago. If I had known that you weren't my enemy."  
  
"I; don't know," Sark whispered, "but; I don't think we should dwell on the past. We can't change it, so why spend time trying to figure it out?"  
  
Sydney smiled a little. "I; guess you're right."  
  
"Well;, of course," Sark said, kissing her neck.  
  
"Hey;," Sydney said with a laugh, giving his cheek a playful tap, "you; shouldn't always assume you're right."  
  
"Okay;, okay," Sark said, raising his hands up defensively. Sydney turned over onto her back and grinned up at him, her oh-so-incredibly-cute dimples prominent. "But;, I basically know that I'm always right." He winked at her and she grinned again. "To; prove it, I have a game."  
  
Sydney laughed and pulled his head down towards her, threading her fingers through his hair as she kissed him.  
  
"I;'m serious," Sark said, trying to keep a straight face.  
  
"Uh; huh," Sydney mumbled, kissing him again. She bit her lip and looked at him thoughtfully. "You;'re different around me."  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow at her. "What; do you mean?"  
  
"Well;, you always have this bad boy façade that you use when you're Assassin Sark, you know? You did it with me, too, but now that we've evolved from that, and you're Just Sark, you're—"  
  
"Human;?"  
  
Sydney nodded. "I; like Just Sark better than Assassin Sark."  
  
"Me; too," Sark said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a seductive smile. "Now;, for that game..."  
  
"You;'re not serious about this?" Sydney said, laughing again.  
  
"Just; listen," Sark told her. "Now;, I'm going to assume I'm right about some things, and I want you to correct me if I'm wrong."  
  
"What; kind of things?" Sydney asked curiously, her eyebrows raised.  
  
Sark slid his hand up Sydney's side, stopping to roll a nipple between his fingers then gently pinch it. Sydney whimpered.  
  
"Would; I be right to assume that you like this?"  
  
Sydney frowned and mussed his hair. "That;'s not fair. You already know the answers to those kinds of questions."  
  
"You;'re no fun," Sark said with a sigh.  
  
"All; right, you can continue," Sydney told him, grinning broadly.  
  
"Thank; you," Sark said.  
  
Sydney took a deep breath and let it out, preparing for whatever Sark had planned. He released her nipple and let his hand reach the underside of that breast, his fingers crawling across the skin. Sydney inhaled sharply.  
  
"This;?"  
  
"Yes;," Sydney mumbled.  
  
Sark smiled and gently squeezed, then moved his hand, going to work on the other breast. Sydney bit her lip, feeling a tightening at the tips of her breasts where her nipples had become stiff. She breathed heavily as her hands found the bed sheets and gripped them tightly.  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow at her in an unspoken question and she nodded. He smiled again, satisfied at his game. He leaned down and took a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, making Sydney arch her back to be closer to him. He stopped and she grunted in protest. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.  
  
"I; guess I don't have to ask if I'm right about that one."  
  
_Cocky fuck. That's harsh. Oh well, at least I'm not saying it to his face...  
_  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at him as he moved his face in front of hers. She firmly placed her fingers on the back of his neck and brought his head down to hers where she chewed on his lip harshly.  
  
Sark nodded, understanding that he had gone too far and rubbed his bruised lip.  
  
_Good boy.  
_  
He leaned down and kissed her, guiding his hand down over her stomach to her mound where he stopped. Sydney whimpered again, wanting him, craving him.  
  
"Please;," she whispered, her body trembling and her eyes begging.  
  
Sark smirked. "I; think it's safe to say that I've won," he said, keeping a safe distance from her mouth so she couldn't bite into his lip again.  
  
Sydney clenched her jaw and raised her chin defiantly.  
  
"Say; it," he taunted, his fingers tracing patterns on her center.  
  
Sydney moaned a little when Sark's fingers moved closer and closer until—  
  
He pulled his hand away.  
  
Sydney's mouth opened involuntarily and she raised her eyebrows. She had let him win by begging him, and he was letting her know it. There was only one way she could get what she wanted.  
  
Needed.  
  
"Fine;," she said slowly, "you; win."  
  
To her surprise, Sark's face didn't register any kind of victory smirk. He simply nodded and melded his lips to hers in a long kiss before giving her what she wanted.  
  
And needed...  
  
_He never fails to amaze me._


	12. Twelve: Homecoming

**Homecoming  
  
  
  
**

"How; did we do it, Sark?" Sydney asked, laying in his arms after their second bout of lovemaking.  
  
Sark bit his lip, briefly considering a sarcastic response, but he held it back, sensing that Sydney had something serious and important on her mind. "How; did we do what?"  
  
Sydney sighed and flipped over onto her back so she could look up into his eyes. "I; just feel like I've known you forever. Our—" She swallowed, wondering how Sark would react, "—relationship just seems like it effortlessly skipped several steps, but it doesn't feel like we missed anything." She bit her lip. "Does; that make sense?"  
  
Sark nodded, understanding completely. "Yes;," he said, leaning down and melding his lips to hers, then playfully nuzzling his nose against her nose.  
  
Sydney giggled and moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest and sighing with content. "I; don't want this to end," she told him, echoing what she had said earlier.  
  
Sark held her tighter and pressed his lips to her hair, her cheek, her ear. "I; told you it won't," he said firmly, but he too was worried that something might happen to tear them apart.  
  
"I; believe you," Sydney said with a sigh, lifting her head slightly to plant a kiss on his jaw.  
  
_I hope to God he's right...  
_  
  
The next morning, there was a series of knocks on the door. Sydney sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to her chest. Sark sat up beside her.  
  
"Who; is it?" Sydney asked, her voice unsteady.  
  
"It;'s me, Sydney," Jack said from the other side of the door, "and; your mother and Dixon. We have a plane waiting for us to head home, we need to go."  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, "just; give me a minute." She stood up quickly and began collecting her clothes. She threw on the day-old stuff, knowing that her father had probably put her suitcase in her room and since she hadn't been in there to retrieve it, she was stuck with her dirty clothes.  
  
Sark had begun to dress as well and after a minute, they were both ready. Sydney bit her lip and stood by Sark, whispering in his ear.  
  
"How; are we going to explain this? Us? To everyone? I'm sure my father is wondering why I stayed in your room instead of my own."  
  
Sark looked into her eyes, noting that they were wide with fear and worry. "It; doesn't matter. They'll see us come out of the room together and they can draw their own conclusions. Surely you're not the kind of person to care what other people think?"  
  
Sydney shook her head.  
  
"Good;," Sark said approvingly.  
  
Sydney nodded and made her way to the door as Sark went to pick up his suitcase. She glanced over her shoulder at him and ran a hand through her hair, realizing that she didn't have a brush. She mumbled a curse for not retrieving her suitcase before engaging in her nocturnal activities with Sark. She opened the door slowly and smiled at her visitors.  
  
Irina returned the smile, Dixon was expressionless, and Jack was visibly pissed. Irina patted Jack's arm when she saw the look on his face.  
  
"Jack;, our daughter's in love," she said softly, turning his head towards her to gaze into his eyes.  
  
Jack clenched his jaw and frowned, then looked back at Sydney who was wearing a smile and nodding at him. His features softened and he thought back to their conversation on the plane—how at ease she was in telling him she had broken up with Vaughn. He should have inferred that there was someone else whom she loved. He just had a hard time believing that she could love someone whom she had long believed was her enemy up until learning the truth yesterday. But he could see how it could have happened. After all, he had fallen in love all over again with Irina, even after she had deceived him for so long. Then, she had seemingly deceived him again in Panama and his feelings had lessened, but they were still there. But once he had found out that she was working in opposition to Sloane the whole time, the feelings had resurfaced, stronger than ever.  
  
He gave Sydney a small smile and gave a small nod of approval to Sark. But he made a note to ask Irina how in the hell she knew there was anything between Sydney and Sark when they arrived back in Los Angeles.  
  
  
When they arrived back home, there was a briefing about what had taken place while they were in Tuscany. Sark and Irina were subjected to a lengthy debrief after turning over all of the Rambaldi-related things they had taken from Sloane and were officially put on the CIA's payroll.  
  
After the whole ordeal was over, Sydney and Sark prepared to head to Sydney's house, but were stopped by Vaughn.  
  
"Hey;," Vaughn said with a smile, his green eyes shining.  
  
"H-hey;," Sydney mumbled, a knot forming in her stomach.  
  
Vaughn managed a quick nod to Sark, obviously not completely trusting him. "Hey;, uh, do you think we could talk for a minute?" he asked, looking into Sydney's eyes. He glanced at Sark and added, "Alone;?"  
  
Sark narrowed his eyes and looked at Sydney who averted her gaze to the floor. "Of; course," he began, feeling anger well up inside of him at Sydney for not telling him there was someone else, "we;'re through here, anyway." He glanced at Sydney again, his lips pursed, then brushed past Vaughn and walked through the rotunda.  
  
_Damn it. I should have said something beforehand. I'll fix it. Once I'm done talking to Vaughn.  
_  
Sydney crossed her arms over her chest, watching Sark walk away. Vaughn looked over his shoulder to follow where Sydney's eyes were focused.  
  
"Wh-what; was uh, _that_ all about?" Vaughn asked curiously.  
  
"Vaughn;, I don't know how to tell you this," Sydney began, and was cut off by Vaughn.  
  
"Sydney;, is there something between you and Sark?"  
  
Sydney nodded, her doe eyes brightening at the mention of Sark. She was warm again and she fought the urge to smile. "Yeah.;"  
  
Vaughn nodded slowly, his jaw clenched. "How; long?"  
  
_None of your business.  
_  
"Vaughn;, why is that any of your business?" Sydney asked, her eyes narrowing in her annoyance at Vaughn's probing.  
  
Vaughn raised an eyebrow at her and frowned. "Maybe; because I would like to know if you were cheating on me when we were going out."  
  
Sydney scoffed. "Right; Vaughn, because I traveled halfway around the world with you on missions and I apparently had time to go sneak off and find Sark."  
  
"So;, then you just started this yesterday?" Vaughn inquired, his voice increasing in volume.  
  
"Yes;, okay? It started yesterday. But it wasn't sudden, Vaughn, I had had these feelings already," Sydney told him, her gaze quickly darting to the floor when his eyes fell on her.  
  
"That;'s why you broke up with me," Vaughn stated, "so; you could be with him."  
  
"Vaughn;! That wasn't the only reason, damn it!" Sydney yelled. "I; told you I wasn't in love with you and that was the truth."  
  
"Of; course not, you were in love with Sark." Sydney started to reply but Vaughn's features softened as if a light bulb had just been turned on at the sudden realization. "You;'re in love with Sark," he said quietly.  
  
_You have no idea how much I'm in love with him, but God yes, I am in love with Sark.  
_  
"Yes;," Sydney said softly, nodding slowly, "I;'m in love with Sark."  
  
Vaughn touched her arm. "Well;, then I'm happy for you."  
  
"Thank; you," Sydney said, stepping forward and giving him a hug, which he returned with an awkward pat on her back.  
  
"I;'ll see you," Vaughn told her when they pulled apart.  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said with a small smile. She noticed something between hurt and happiness in Vaughn's eyes. Hurt because he loved her, happiness because he was glad that she was finally happy. Sydney pressed her palm to Vaughn's cheek then left to go find Sark.  
  
She spotted him on a planter box just outside the building seated comfortably, eyes staring at the passing traffic. She took a seat next to him and he didn't look at her or even acknowledge her presence.  
  
"Sark;, there is nothing between Vaughn and I. I broke up with him and that's the end of it."  
  
"Sydney;, he clearly still has feelings for you and he's not going to take 'no' for an answer."  
  
"Well;, he doesn't have a choice because I explained to him _twice_ that I'm not in love with him and that I'm in love with you," Sydney said, her brown eyes finally catching the gaze of Sark's blue ones.  
  
"Are; you positive? I don't want to stand in the way—"  
  
"Sark;, damn it, I _love_ you, okay? I—"  
  
Sark quieted her with a sudden kiss. He pulled back after a moment, letting her react. Sydney blushed and grinned, her dimples prominent. She reached behind Sark's head and pulled him to her, connecting her lips to his. When they separated, both were smiling broadly.  
  
"Hey;, you know what?" Sydney asked suddenly.  
  
"What;?"  
  
Sydney chuckled. "You;'re lucky I heard that conversation between you and my mother because otherwise I would still have no clue what your first name is."  
  
Sark laughed. "That;'s true." He shook his head in disbelief. "I; can't believe I hadn't even told you on my own. I mean, you slept with me—_twice_—without me actually telling you my first name."  
  
Sydney blushed again and ducked her head. "That; would really make a slut, wouldn't it? Sleeping with someone twice without knowing his first name." She chuckled.  
  
Sark pondered this for a moment. "Yeah;, that sounds about right," he said, chuckling.  
  
"Hey;, thanks a lot," she said laughing, punching him playfully in the shoulder.  
  
"Is; that the best you can do?" Sark teased her, referring to the punch.  
  
"Ohh;, you did not just go there," Sydney said, her voice almost taunting.  
  
"I;'m just saying that your so-called 'punch' wasn't exactly what I'm used to or would expect from the great Sydney Bristow," Sark said with a grin.  
  
"All; right then," Sydney said, standing up and rolling up her sleeves and putting up her fists.  
  
"You; want to fight?" Sark asked, his eyebrows raised.  
  
"No;, _Andrew,_ I'm just doing this so I can stand here looking like an idiot," Sydney said, rolling her eyes.  
  
Sark pursed his lips and scratched his chin thoughtfully.  
  
"You; are _not_ pondering that," Sydney told him, slightly pissed off.  
  
"You;'re right," Sark said, nodding.  
  
"Good.;"  
  
"But; I was," Sark said with another grin, knowing it would get a rise out of her.  
  
"All; right, that's it," Sydney said with a shake of her head and lunging towards him.  
  
Sark surprised her by sidestepping and grabbing her arm as she turned, pinning it behind her back and standing behind her, his face in her hair. He considered mocking her skills but decided he shouldn't, knowing that would piss her off further and that he wouldn't be so lucky if she tried again. So instead, he just kept her arm pinned behind her back with one of his arms and wrapped the other around her waist.  
  
To his surprise, Sydney started laughing. "This; is so silly."  
  
Sark loosened his grip and chuckled. "I; agree."  
  
At that moment, Sydney took the opportunity to twist out of his grasp and pin Sark's arm behind his back with one hand and grasp his throat with the other.  
  
"Nice;," Sark mumbled.  
  
"Thanks.;"  
  
"I; hope you've proven your point," Sark said, straining his neck to try and catch a glimpse of her face.  
  
"Pretty; much," Sydney said, still keeping her grip on his arm and throat.  
  
"Mind; releasing me?"  
  
Sydney chuckled and let go just as Sark spun around and pulled her into his arms. "Well;, hey there Mr. Just Lost." She winked at him.  
  
"Hello; to you too, Ms. I-know-we-didn't-actually-finish-the-fight-but-I'm-still-declaring-myself-the-winner."  
  
Sydney grinned and melded her lips to his, threading her fingers through Sark's hair as he held her to him, hugging her tightly. The kiss ended and Sydney turned her head so that her cheek pressed against Sark's chest. She noticed Vaughn standing by the CIA's entrance. She sighed and was then relieved to see that he just nodded, finally fully grasping her feelings for Sark.  
  
Vaughn looked straight ahead after that and went to his car.  
  
Sydney kissed Sark again and just relished the feeling of being in his arms.  
  
_God, I don't want this to ever end.  
_  
"Andrew;?"  
  
"Yes;?"  
  
"I; just keep getting this feeling that something's going to come along and ruin this for us. I don't know why, but for some reason I just keep thinking that's going to happen," Sydney said, her voice breaking.  
  
"Sydney;, everything's going to be fine, I promise. Nothing and no one are going to destroy this. Sydney, you _have_ to believe that." He kissed the top of her head. "When; we finally take down Sloane, we won't have to worry at all."  
  
"What; if we never do?" Sydney asked, looking up into Sark's eyes, her own eyes glistening with tears.  
  
"We; will," Sark said firmly, "_we will._"  
  
"Okay;," Sydney said, burying her face in Sark's chest, "okay.;"  
  
Sark held her tighter and kissed the top of her head again. "I; love you Sydney, and I swear to you, no one will ruin this. Not Sloane, not anybody."  
  
Sydney looked up at him and smiled a little. "Let;'s go to my place. I want you to meet Francie and Will." She swallowed. "Wait;, you've already met Will..." She pulled back, a knot forming in her stomach.  
  
Sark pulled her back to him, whispering that he had never intended to hurt her by hurting Will, and that he had just wanted to obtain the page.  
  
"Let;'s get going," Sydney said again and she took Sark's hand and they began to walk.


	13. Thirteen: The Indicator

**The Indicator  
  
  
  
**

Sydney and Sark arrived at Sydney's house a short while later. Sydney turned the key in the lock and was oblivious to the fact that Sark seemed a bit hesitant as he stepped inside.  
  
Sydney looked around and was surprised to find the house completely devoid of any light. She fumbled around for a switch and added some life to the living room. She let out a content sigh as she shrugged off her coat and hung it on a hook of the coat rack.  
  
She threw Sark a smile over her shoulder as she went to the kitchen. She spotted a note on the refrigerator and plucked it off to read it. Her eyes narrowed a little and she chewed on a fingernail.  
  
"Hm;," she wondered aloud.  
  
Sark felt his blood turn to ice. He knew he had to tell Sydney about what had happened to her roommate and also inform her about the woman that Sloane had recruited to take her place, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. He walked slowly into the kitchen and peered over Sydney's shoulder to see what she was reading.  
  
"Francie; has some sort of chefs' conference in New York. She doesn't know when she'll be back." Sydney chewed on her lip and looked at Sark. "This; is sudden. I mean, she didn't even give me a heads-up or anything."  
  
Sark dropped his gaze from hers and looked over the note again. He avoided saying anything, not wanting to dig himself in deeper. He would tell her, when he had complete control over the situation, not when he was at the mercy of her in her house.  
  
"Let;'s go to bed," he suggested.  
  
Sydney smirked. "Straight; to the point, I see."  
  
"Yes;, I'm pretty famous for that," Sark told her, laying a gentle kiss on her lips.  
  
Sydney smiled and laid the note on the counter. "Oh;, I wonder if Will's asleep already."  
  
"Well;, if he is, I think it would be best not to wake him," Sark whispered, snaking an arm around Sydney and sliding his hand up her side so that the thumb of his right hand was just barely making contact with the side of Sydney's right breast.  
  
"All; right."  
  
Sark smiled at Sydney's submission and wrapped both arms around her waist when she began to lead him to her bedroom. Sydney stole a glance towards Will's room and saw that the door was closed, indicating that he was probably indeed asleep.  
  
She led Sark into her bedroom and closed the door softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they kissed, slow and gentle. Their clothes were removed slowly as well, one article at a time between periods of osculation.  
  
Once all clothes had been discarded, Sark led Sydney to the bed, his mouth still staking his claim on hers and softly laid her down upon it. He let her get comfortable before laying down on top of her and letting his lips connect with her soft skin. He worked his way down her body, a kiss here, a lick there, until Sydney had her hands in his hair, letting him know that she was more than ready to have him inside of her.  
  
He entered her slowly, feeling her tense muscles relax, and then started to move in a steady rhythm. Before long, Sydney was moving with him, reminiscent of their first time together.  
  
Sark sped up the pace and was finally able to reach his release just as Sydney reached hers. This time, though, neither one cried out, they both settled for gasps as neither wanted to disturb Will. Sark laid on top of Sydney, still joined with her body and planted kisses on the sensitive skin of her collarbone and neck.  
  
"I; love you, Sydney," he said breathlessly, laying his head in the crook of her neck.  
  
"I; love you too," Sydney whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and sighing contentedly.  
  
Finally, Sark slipped out of her and took her in his arms as she pulled a sheet over the two of them. They slept soundly until morning.  
  
  
"Syd;?" Will was knocking on the closed door of Sydney's bedroom. "Sydney;!"  
  
Sydney roused herself from sleep, looking around and finding that Sark had left a note on one of the pillows saying that he had gone into work early. She smiled at the note and was vaguely aware of Will's voice from outside the door of her room.  
  
"Sydney;," Will said again, this time opening the door and stepping into the room.  
  
"Will;, Jesus," Sydney muttered, grasping the sheets to shield her naked form. She discreetly tucked the note underneath the pillow.  
  
"God;, Syd, I'm sorry," Will said, blushing and turning his back to her. "I; just read a note from Francie that was on the counter."  
  
"Wait;," Sydney began, "you; weren't here when Francie left?"  
  
"No;," Will said, his back still towards her. "I; came home from a quick trip to the store, and she wasn't here. I didn't even notice the note, though." He sighed heavily. "She;'s been acting weird lately, have you noticed that?"  
  
"Yeah;, I have," Sydney said quietly, suddenly aware that her grip on the sheets was slipping because her hands had begun to shake.  
  
_Why _was_ Francie acting so strange?  
_  
"Do; you think it's—"  
  
Sydney interrupted him. "Will;, let's talk after I get ready for work, okay?"  
  
"Okay;," Will agreed. He tossed Sydney a quick glance over his shoulder. "Did; Vaughn go into work already?"  
  
Sydney stiffened and briefly considered telling Will that yes, Vaughn had gone into work already, just so she wouldn't have to explain to another person about her break-up with him and her new relationship with Sark. But she had to tell Will the truth. She owed him that if he and Vaughn talked or if she brought Sark into the house again.  
  
"I; said we would talk after I got ready," she said, her voice tinged with annoyance.  
  
"Syd;—"  
  
"Damn; it, Will," Sydney said through clenched teeth.  
  
Will frowned and left Sydney alone. Sydney gripped the sheets tightly, determined to take her frustration out on the helpless pieces of cotton. She growled at the empty space filling the room then threw off the covers and made her way to the bathroom to shower.  
  
  
A short while later, Sydney emerged from her bedroom, fully dressed after her shower, and sauntered into the living room. She was hardly prepared to talk, but she knew she didn't have much of a choice.  
  
She begrudgingly took a seat in a nearby chair, glancing at Will who was eyeing her from his place on the couch. She raised her eyebrows at him and pursed her lips as if to beckon Will to speak.  
  
Will took the bait. "Are; you cheating on Vaughn?" he asked, his tone accusatory.  
  
"No;, I'm not," Sydney replied, her lips thinning.  
  
Will cautiously stood from the couch and sat on one of the arms of Sydney's chair. He looked down at her as she leaned back, folding her hands over her stomach and sighing.  
  
"I; broke up with Vaughn," she said finally. "Long; story short—because I'm sick of explaining it—is that I don't love him."  
  
Will narrowed his azure eyes at Sydney. "But; a couple days ago you said things were going well."  
  
"I; know, but I realized that things weren't working out and that I wanted something else."  
  
Someone_ else.  
_  
"_Someone_ else," she added, averting her gaze when she felt her cheeks grow warm.  
  
"Who;?" Will asked pointedly.  
  
Sydney gulped, afraid to explain what was going on between her and Sark. "It; relates to the mission I went on yesterday, which I forgot to tell you about," she said quietly. "Anyway;, the mission went well and we learned that my mother and Sark orchestrated an 'escape' for my mother in order to try and trap Sloane. It hasn't completely been successful, but we are in possession of all the Rambaldi artifacts that Sloane had."  
  
"Okay;," Will said, nodding, "I;'m trying to absorb all of this." He rubbed his temples and Sydney hid a grin. "I; still don't understand how the 'someone else' relates to that mission, though."  
  
Sydney was silent for a moment and looked away as she became fully aware that Will's sapphire eyes were trained on her. "I-I; uh—" She cleared her throat. "I; realized that I had feelings f-for Sark." She looked up at Will for a moment, seeing the anger in them and cast her eyes downward.  
  
Will stood up and paced. "Sydney;, Jesus, how could you want to get involved with someone like this? I mean, the fact that he had me tortured aside, he has tried to _kill_ you on numerous occasions."  
  
"I; know, Will, but—"  
  
"No; 'buts,' Sydney, what makes you think that he isn't planning to kill you one day? That he's toying with your emotions to try and get close to you and then just turn the tables on you and leave you shattered?"  
  
Sydney felt tears start to creep into her eyes and she tried her damnedest not to let them fall. "Will;, I understand your concerns, and don't think I haven't thought he might betray me, but damn it, no one—"  
  
"Sydney;, you're not thinking this through!" Will exploded. "He;'s a _trained assassin,_ what makes you think that he could possibly stray from that and become a harmless citizen?"  
  
Sydney stood up, her jaw clenched. "Listen; to me, Goddamn it, I don't _care_ what he has done in the past, I believe him when he says that he's working with my mother to bring down Sloane, I believe him when he says that we'll take Sloane down one day, I believe him when he tells me that he—" She stopped abruptly, almost afraid to finish that sentence for fear of the anger it would no doubt rouse in Will.  
  
"What;?" Will asked, his tone harsh. "What; were you going to say?"  
  
Sydney swallowed back the sobs that rose in her throat but she couldn't prevent the single tear that fell onto her cheek. "I; believe him when he tells me that he loves me."  
  
"Sydney;, that's—" He paused, looked at her, into her eyes, seeing a dark amber shade that practically revealed her whole soul. "You;'re in love?"  
  
Sydney nodded and Will ran a hand through his hair, sighing a little. "He; completes me," Sydney said quietly. "I; have never felt this way about anyone before, not Vaughn, not even Danny. I feel like he's the other half of me that was missing. I can't describe it, Will, but it's just so wonderful." A few more tears escaped and rained down on her cheeks and she didn't bother to fight them. Will should be able to see the depth of her feelings for Sark.  
  
"Syd;, you know I only want the best for you, but, Jesus, it's _Sark_ for Christ's sake. You two have been enemies for God knows how long, and for him to come out of the blue and say he's on your side—" Will shook his head. "Doesn;'t that just sound a little odd to you?"  
  
"Will;, I know this all sounds crazy, but after what happened yesterday and the day before, I don't have a choice but to believe him. I mean—" She paused, feeling sobs rise in the back of her throat. "I; shot my own mother."  
  
Will's head snapped up and his eyes were immediately filled with a thousand questions.  
  
"I; didn't give her a chance to explain or anything," Sydney said quietly. "I; went into work the day before yesterday and my father told me that my mother had seemingly betrayed the CIA. I can't tell you how much rage that instilled in me."  
  
Will stepped towards her, ready to take her into his arms and comfort her if the need arose.  
  
"I; vowed to kill her, can you believe that? I was going to kill—_murder_—my own mother." She swallowed hard, able to compose herself a bit. "I; shot her in the shoulder. I actually planned to make her suffer, let her die slowly, make her think about her betrayal to my father and I, but then after I shot her she told Sark to tell me something. That was when Sark explained everything to me."  
  
Will nodded slowly and rubbed his chin.  
  
"It;'s bad enough that my life is so fucked up and I can hardly trust anyone, but if I can't even trust someone whom I love and who says he loves me, then where does that leave me?" Sydney wiped at her eyes and locked her gaze onto Will's, her lower lip quivering.  
  
"I;'ll give him the benefit of the doubt," Will said, "but; if he hurts you..." Will shook his head, trailing off and leaving the rest to Sydney.  
  
"I; know," Sydney said softly.  
  
Will nodded. "I; love you so much, Syd, I don't want to see you hurt, okay?" He stepped forward then and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
Sydney leaned into him, sighing happily, and for a brief fleeting moment shuddered at the thought that Will might possibly be the only person she could trust.  
  
_Francie too...right?  
_  
Sydney thought for a moment. Why had Francie been acting so odd lately? Surely she couldn't be keeping any secrets from Sydney or Will. Sydney pulled back and looked up at Will.  
  
"What; do you think is up with Francie?" she asked. "Why; do you think she didn't tell us about the conference?"  
  
Will twisted his mouth into a thoughtful frown. "I; don't know. Unless it was so sudden that she couldn't tell us ahead of time, I really don't know why she would keep that from us."  
  
"Plus;," Sydney put in, "she; didn't even say when she would be back. I don't get that at all."  
  
"I; don't either," Will said, shaking his head.  
  
Sydney exhaled. "We; should ask her when she comes back."  
  
_If she ever does...  
_  
Sydney bit her tongue. The idea that Francie might be keeping secrets from her just sounded incredibly crazy. But, she realized, after the takedown of SD-6, she had begun to act strangely. When she had introduced Vaughn to her, she seemed cold, even when she had acted incredibly interested in learning about him when Sydney had mentioned she had something of a crush on him just a couple of weeks before.  
  
_The bug.  
_  
Sydney swallowed hard. Around the same time that Francie's odd behavior had begun to occur, a bug had been found in her house. She found herself wondering if somehow Francie had gotten involved in the spy game, but almost laughed at how silly it sounded. But she was snapped back into her harsh reality when she realized that the life she was living made it common practice for her to doubt everyone with whom she came into contact.  
  
She pushed the thought out of her mind. There was no way that Francie could be a part of something like this. Sydney hated to look down upon her friends for their faults, but Francie was probably the most naïve person she had ever met. She would never make it.  
  
"I; have to go to work," Sydney told Will once she had finished her rumination. "Do; you think you could give me a ride? My car's still at the CIA. Sark and I walked here last night."  
  
"Sure;," Will told her, going to the kitchen and plucking his keys off the counter.  
  
Sydney grabbed her coat as Will grabbed his and they both walked out the door.


	14. Fourteen: Threats and Revelations

**Threats and Revelations  
  
  
  
**

Sark had received a call from Vaughn saying that he should come in right away because Vaughn wanted to have a word with him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Vaughn was probably going to give Sark an earful about Sark's new relationship with Sydney along with some undertones that would clearly indicate he was pissed that Sydney was not his girlfriend any longer.  
  
So now Sark found himself in a small room of the joint task force building with his back against the wall and Vaughn breathing down his neck as his hands gripped his shirt tightly.  
  
"Listen; you son of a bitch," Vaughn was saying, "I; don't trust you and I can't figure out why the CIA does."  
  
"They; have good reason," Sark said calmly, not the least bit bothered by Vaughn's intrusion of his personal space. Vaughn was getting worked up for nothing and Sark wasn't going to allow him the satisfaction of freaking out and pushing him away. Remaining a calm demeanor should put Vaughn in his place.  
  
"Look;, all I'm saying is, if you put Sydney in any kind of dangerous situation and she gets hurt in _any_ way, I will kill you," Vaughn said venomously, keeping his tight grip on Sark's shirt and pressing him harder into the wall.  
  
Sark was amused. "What; makes you think that I would place Sydney in any kind of situation that was even _remotely_ dangerous?"  
  
Vaughn narrowed his eyes. "Why; wouldn't you? You're a heartless assassin, why would you even _care_ if something happened to Sydney?"  
  
Sark felt his muscles tense. How dare this petty CIA employee who was dumped rather easily by Sydney question the fact that he cares for her? "Mr.; Vaughn, I don't care for your contemptuous remarks regarding my relationship with Sydney—"  
  
Vaughn cut him off coldly. "I; am not _talking_ about your relationship with Sydney."  
  
"It; is certainly implied," Sark said, his annoyance level rising.  
  
"In; that case," Vaughn began, "your; 'relationship'—as you call it—is probably based on false pretenses. I have a hard time believing that you're with her because you care for her. Instead, you're probably using her to weasel your way into her life and build up a foundation that you will later crush by betraying her."  
  
Sark was boiling with rage. He grabbed Vaughn by the shirt and spun him around so that Vaughn was now the one with his back slammed against the wall. "You; are _not_ going to question my love for Sydney again. I know that all of this is stemming from the fact that she picked me over you and you can't handle it, so you've decided to threaten me. All you need to know is that I _love_ Sydney and I would never _ever_ do anything to hurt her."  
  
Vaughn was silent but his teeth were clenched with the words he wanted to spit out at Sark. There was no way he was going to trust Sark, and it had nothing to do with the fact that Sydney had left him. He just didn't trust Sark based on everything Sark had done in the past and he was worried that Sark may have a plan in place to harm Sydney and by making her believe that he loved her, he would be able to insinuate himself into her life. Plus, he was involved in the CIA he had access to classified documents and an easy way to escape (probably with Irina, whom Vaughn didn't trust either) to leave Sydney feeling broken.  
  
Vaughn was above (or he liked to think he was) feeling jealous about a relationship that a woman he loved had with another man. He wanted to believe that he was worried and concerned for Sydney on a best friend level, something like what Will probably felt towards her. Vaughn didn't want to believe that he had been so in love with Sydney that when she had left him for Sark that he had felt like personally disposing of Sark in such a way that Sydney would never know that it was he who had done the deed.  
  
He had to admit, though, Sark was right: he _was_ upset that Sydney had broken up with him and that _was_ an enormous part of the reason why he didn't trust Sark. Although, based on Sark's past exploits, a great deal was left to be desired in the whole area of trustworthiness.  
  
Vaughn was about to speak again when Sark released his shirt and stepped back. "If; you _ever_ question my devotion to Sydney again, I can assure you that you will not like the consequences." Sark turned and started to leave.  
  
"Wait;," Vaughn ordered, his voice harsh.  
  
Sark turned slightly and gave Vaughn an icy glare as he waited for Vaughn to explain.  
  
"I; apologize for presuming that you were taking advantage of Sydney," Vaughn began, and Sark stared at him, inviting him to continue. "But; I'm still not completely complaisant about the idea of trusting you, and you and I are going to be working together, so I need your word that you are not betraying this country and that you do not plan to do so in the future. Otherwise, this is not going to be pleasant for either of us."  
  
"I; assure you, Mr. Vaughn, that I am not—in any way, shape, or form—betraying this country." Sark put out his hand.  
  
Vaughn grasped Sark's hand and gave it a hearty shake, then Sark left after they exchanged brooding stares. Vaughn sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine forming from the massive amount of stress. He briefly wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into as far as placing his trust in Sark, then left the room and went to his desk.  
  
  
Sydney and Will had arrived and were now talking with Sark. Sydney had explained to Will in great detail the purpose of his kidnapping on the drive to work. It had involved what Sark had told her the night before, in reassurance, so that she would be able to move on from the incident as well. Will was a bit relieved (if that was the right word) and thus a bit more comfortable than he figured he would be in standing a mere two feet from him.  
  
"It;'s uh—well—good to see you again," Will said with a chuckle, extending his hand.  
  
"Likewise;," Sark said warmly, shaking Will's hand.  
  
Sydney watched the exchange with a sense of relief. At least she wouldn't have to worry about any rifts between Sark and Will even if it was obvious that the two would never become friends.  
  
"Oh;," Sark began, "there; is a briefing in a few minutes."  
  
"Okay;," Sydney and Will said in unison.  
  
"I; actually have to go to my desk and get a few things," Will said to Sydney and Sark. "I;'ll see you both at the briefing."  
  
Sydney and Sark nodded and Will gave them both a brief smile before marching through the rotunda to his desk. Sydney turned to Sark and smiled at him. Sark smiled back, almost wishing that he could just wrap her up in his arms and leave with her, play hooky for a day. Sydney's smile grew wider and it was obvious that she was thinking the same thing.  
  
"We; should get going," Sydney said, tilting her head to one side.  
  
Sark nodded and found himself staring deep into her eyes. How had he not noticed before just how beautiful her eyes were? Especially when the light hit on them just the right way and they were the perfect shade of amber, but even when they were their normal chocolate brown with a ring of chestnut the same color as her hair and a ring of gold near the pupils, they were probably the most gorgeous eyes a person could ever have. An odd feeling came over him and created a dull ache in his chest where his heart was beating. He thought about how lucky he was to be with Sydney and briefly felt sorry for Vaughn. He could now see why Vaughn had been so upset earlier—Vaughn didn't want to see Sydney hurt. He especially didn't want to see Sydney hurt by someone like Sark, a trained assassin who had pretty much been up to no good for years and who was allied with Sydney's mother, someone who had never exactly been considered trustworthy until recently.  
  
Sark understood why Vaughn was worried and he himself realized that he was worried about anything ever happening to Sydney. He would never do anything to hurt her, but there were people who would—people like Sloane.  
  
People like Sloane who would take advantage of her in more ways than one.  
  
People like Sloane who would think about no one but themselves and use Sydney's skills for their own purposes and for their own sick manipulation.  
  
People like Sloane who would stop at nothing to vanquish anyone who stood in their way.  
  
People like Sloane had to be eliminated.  
  
But there was something else that needed to be taken care of, first, Sark decided. He needed to tell Sydney what Sloane had done to her roommate and who her roommate now was as a result of Sloane's sordid plan. He knew it wouldn't be easy, and he knew it was likely that Sydney would blame him for what had happened even though he had had no control over it. He had even _begged_ Sloane not to take that action. He knew that Sloane was just trying to hurt Sydney in every way he possibly could. He even wished that Irina could have gotten out of CIA custody sooner, before Sloane had had Francie killed. He and Irina may have been able to stop him before it had happened.  
  
He didn't want to dwell on the past, though. He knew it would drive him crazy if he did and he needed a clear head for the briefing. But that still wouldn't stop him from being filled with a new rage and wanting to have Sloane put in front of him right now so that he could inflict on him every possible kind of torture he could.  
  
Sark was lost in thought and hadn't realized that his eyes were now gleaming with an intense anger and that Sydney had gotten worried and was lightly running her hand over his cheek, trying to bring him back to reality.  
  
"Andrew;," she whispered, "is; something wrong?"  
  
Sark just stared at her for a moment, looking into her eyes again, hating the way they looked so open, so vulnerable, so scared, because she was worried about him. He finally shook his head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him as he kissed her hair and led her in the direction of the briefing room.


	15. Fifteen: A Difficult Truth

**A Difficult Truth  
  
  
  
**

The briefing was fairly quick. It simply involved Kendall and Jack explaining that they still had no leads on Sloane and that they weren't exactly sure what he might be up to now that the CIA was in possession of all of the Rambaldi items he had once had.  
  
Sydney and Sark walked out of the building later that day, sometime in the evening. Their cars were parked next to each other and Sark looked over at Sydney for a moment.  
  
"I; have a suggestion," Sark announced.  
  
"What; would that be?" Sydney asked, turning her head to look at Sark.  
  
"How; would you like to see my apartment?"  
  
Sydney smiled and pecked him on the cheek. "I;'ll follow you in my car."  
  
Sark agreed, pulling Sydney to him for something of a lingering kiss and they both went to their respective cars.  
  
  
A short drive later found them at Sark's abode. They had gone up in the elevator together and now Sark was turning the key in the lock and opening the door to his apartment.  
  
Sydney looked around while Sark ventured to the kitchen for a bottle of wine. The apartment was exactly what Sydney expected it to be: neatly kept and expensively furnished.  
  
Once she had finished her perusing, Sydney joined Sark on the black leather couch as he was opening the bottle of wine.  
  
"I; can see you're fond of this place already," Sark said, picking up a glass and pouring some wine into it.  
  
"It;'s really nice," Sydney told him, glancing around again.  
  
"Thank; you," Sark said, handing Sydney the glass he had just filled and picking up the other glass he had brought out. Sydney thanked him and he nodded as he began to fill his own glass. He toasted her and they both took small sips. "Sydney;, before we go any further, I need to tell you something."  
  
Sydney gave him a curious look and smiled. "Okay.;"  
  
Sark sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn; it, I should have told you before I let this go as far as it's gone." He stood up, rubbing his jaw.  
  
Sydney stood up as well and went over to him. "What;'s going on?"  
  
Sark stared at her, searching her eyes and finding that they were filled with fear, confusion, and anger. He sighed and Sydney narrowed her eyes at him.  
  
"_Sark,_" she ground out, knowing it would irritate him, "what; is going on?"  
  
"Sydney;," Sark began, his voice strained, "your; roommate, she's not who you think she is."  
  
"Sark;, what are you talking about?" Sydney demanded as Sark bristled at Sydney's second use of his surname.  
  
"Sloane; recruited a new asset from a competing organization."  
  
Sydney shook her head. "Francie;'s not—"  
  
"No;," Sark interrupted, "she; wasn't. Sloane took a course of action that I begged him not to take. But he wouldn't listen to me and there was nothing I could do. He genetically resequenced his new asset and ordered her to kill your roommate and take her place."  
  
Sydney took a couple of steps backward. "You;'re lying." Sydney's mind was reeling. _Oh God, Francie...  
_  
"I; swear to you I'm not lying, Sydney," Sark insisted, stepping forward to grip her shoulders.  
  
"_Don't touch me!_" Sydney shrieked, twisting out of Sark's grasp and shoving him away harshly so that he stumbled a bit. She stepped back again. She backed up against the couch and collapsed upon it, drawing her legs underneath her and curling up against one of the arms of the couch.  
  
Sark hesitantly made his way to the couch, fearing the wrath of Sydney Bristow. He sat down beside her and noticed she was ghostly pale and frighteningly still. He put an arm around her, gently stroking her hair.  
  
Sydney bolted from the couch and began pacing the room. She had her head down a bit as she stared at the floor, unblinking, and Sark was able to catch a brief glimpse of her eyes. He had never seen them look more cold and hard. They had changed from their usual warm chocolate brown to a dark, almost black shade.  
  
Sydney clenched her hands into fists. _Dead, dead, dead.  
_  
"Sydney; you have to believe me when I tell you that I did not want this to happen. I begged Sloane not to take this step, but he insisted. I'm so sorry, Sydney." Sark remained on the couch, letting Sydney have her distance. He knew she would break down soon and she would need him to help her put the pieces back together as best as possible.  
  
Sydney stopped pacing and turned to face Sark, her eyes now glistening with tears and a light, vulnerable tint of dark amber. _But what if...  
_  
"I; believe you," she said quietly, "or; at least I would like to believe you. What choice do I have? If you had approved of it, you probably would have killed me too, already, right?" Sydney scoffed. "Unless; you have some elaborate plan you're waiting to unleash on me when I least expect it."  
  
Her stomach tightened. _Jesus, what if he does?  
_  
Sark felt as if Sydney had stuck a knife in his gut. But he wasn't about to let her get away with her accusations. 'Two could play this game,' he decided. "Is; that what you think?"  
  
"Excuse; me?" Sydney said, narrowing her eyes at Sark.  
  
_What the fuck is he doing?  
_  
"Is; that what you think? That I have some sort of plan that I'm 'waiting to unleash on you' as you call it," Sark said, his tone cold.  
  
"I; don't know, Sark," Sydney countered, "should; I?"  
  
Sark stood up suddenly. "Sydney;, if you don't trust me, how the hell do you expect this—us—to go anywhere?"  
  
Sydney clenched her teeth. "Sark;, based on our past, I don't really have reason to trust you. Let's face it, not only have you tortured a dear friend of mine, but you've attempted to _kill_ me. Frankly, I'm not even sure why I even considered this with you. Yes, I will readily admit to being attracted to you, and I admit that I could not have been more relieved to find out that supposedly, you and my mother were working together in opposition to Sloane and that you weren't actually my enemy, but Jesus, our past is _fucked._"  
  
Sark stepped closer to her, but not too close, so as not to anger her further. "Sydney;, let's just get this out in the open. Regardless of what we have done to one another in the past, we ended up finding out that we're attracted to one another and that we like each other a great deal, and—God forbid the words we've spoken were empty—that we love each other. There's nothing we can do to change any of it."  
  
"But; how can we do this, Sark?"  
  
"Will; you please call me 'Andrew'?" Sark pleaded.  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and her voice was shaky as she spoke. "I; don't know if I can right now."  
  
Sark said nothing, only stared into her eyes, seeing the dark brown shield cover them again, replacing the vulnerability of the dark amber. He wasn't going to press the issue as he still wasn't even sure if she believed what he had told her about Francie being dead.  
  
"I; need some time alone," Sydney said quietly. "I; don't even know what to do right now. I don't even know if I can believe what you've told me. I just need some time to think."  
  
_My God, Francie could be dead and I don't even want to believe it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What if Sark, no Andrew, wait, still Sark... What if Sark is telling me the truth? My best friend murdered by an unknown person and that Sark begged Sloane not to have it done. But if Sark is lying, shouldn't he be killing me right now? Why would he want me blabbing this to everyone if he had something to hide? Jesus, Francie's dead. My best friend is dead. Dead. Jesus fucking Christ. Dead, dead, dead...  
_  
Sark placed a hand on Sydney's shoulder and gently squeezed it, then drew his hand away, not wanting to ignite her anger again. "I; don't know what else to tell you, Sydney. I assure you I am telling you the truth, but if I try too hard to make you believe it, you'll think I'm lying. So I'm leaving it like this. You can choose to believe me, or you can choose not to believe me. I'm not going to force you, I'm only telling you that what I said earlier and what I said yesterday did not have a single ounce of falsity in it."  
  
"You; understand it's hard for me to accept out of the blue that you tell me my best friend and roommate is dead. Especially considering everything you and I have been through." Sydney glanced up at him. "Think; about it, Sark, what real reason do I have to trust you?"  
  
Sark stared far into her eyes. "I; love you, Sydney. I wouldn't lie to someone I love."  
  
Sydney lifted her chin a bit defiantly. "Then; there's a difference between us, because I would—and have. I lied to Danny, Will, and Francie. Then I told the truth to Danny and he was killed. Will investigated SD-6 and was almost killed. Francie still doesn't know the truth and it's kept her safe. Lying to my best friend has kept her _safe._"  
  
"Sydney;, I don't want to make this harder on you than it already is, but Sloane's asset _killed_ your roommate. I'm sorry, and you have no idea how much I want that to not be a true statement, but it is, it's true, and I can't change it, Sydney, I _can't._" Sark felt his eyes growing moist and he turned away from Sydney, clenching his fists, frustrated that Sydney wouldn't believe him and frustrated that he couldn't take back what had happened.  
  
Sydney took a cautious step forward, taking in the sight of a man whom she had always believed was unbreakable seemingly crumble before her. She felt tears sting her eyes. There was no way, she was sure now, that Sark could be lying to her. She stepped towards him again and took his hand in both of hers as she stood next to him.  
  
"Andrew;, I'm sorry."  
  
Sark turned towards her, looking down as she gazed up into his eyes, seeing the dark brown shield gone from her eyes and the vulnerable dark amber back in place. They stared at one another for a few more moments before Sydney rested her head on Sark's shoulder, still clutching his hand.  
  
"Francie;'s gone," she whispered, scarcely believing that those words would ever come out of her mouth. She tightened her grasp on Sark's hand and felt a single tear roll down her cheek. She wasn't quite ready to break down yet, but she would be soon.  
  
Sark wanted to take her into his arms but knew that by the firm grip that Sydney had on his hand that she wasn't ready for him to do that yet. So he settled for leaning his head against hers and bringing his other hand up match with Sydney's hands.  
  
Neither one knew how long they stood there.


	16. Sixteen: Aftermath

**Aftermath  
  
  
  
**

Sometime during the night, the pair had moved to the couch and had fallen asleep leaning against one another. But, sometime during her slumber, Sydney had moved away from Sark, leaving him sound asleep with his elbow on one of the arms of the couch and his hand in a fist propping up his head. His other arm fell limp at his side where it had once been resting around Sydney's shoulders.  
  
Sydney had curled up against the other arm of the couch, needing to put some distance between herself and Sark. Her knees were drawn to her chest and she had rested one arm loosely on them, while her other arm was bent at the elbow with her hand lingering near her mouth where she was unconsciously biting at her nails. Every now and then she stopped to examine them, experiencing some twisted sort of satisfaction at the ripped and ragged state of them as well as the cuticles which were also in the same position of raggedness.  
  
She shivered as well, violent shivers that began in her shoulders and shook her entire body and made her afraid at how intense they were. She forced herself to look over at Sark and instantly felt a clash of emotions. On the one hand, he looked incredibly peaceful and even angelic as he slept. But on the other hand, Sydney thought he looked _too_ peaceful and angelic, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't told her something as morbid as her best friend being killed and that some sort of double had taken her place.  
  
Something struck a chord within Sydney at that moment. _Some sort of double_ She remembered a couple of months back with Jim Lennox and how some scientist had genetically resequenced himself to look like Lennox. Then she remembered the lab in Poland that she had destroyed. She had discovered that a second person had been taken advantage of like Lennox had. _It must have been Francieoh God, how could I not have seen this before? All of her strange behavior, Jesus  
_  
Sydney felt sobs rise in the back of her throat and then reverberate throughout her body. She hid her face in her hands, sobbing quietly, tears raining onto her cheeks. She wanted to find the strength to get up and go somewhere else so that Sark wouldn't be able to hear her, but she wasn't able to do so.  
  
She curled her fingers against her cheeks and felt the tattered remains of her fingernails tear a bit against her skin as they were already weak. She pulled her hands away and looked at her fingers, seeing that they were bleeding a little from scraping against her cheeks.  
  
She swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. She sighed a little and looked over at Sark again, relieved that she hadn't woke him. She thought about how she should tell everyone, especially Will, who obviously thought that Francie was away at a conference instead of off with Sloane. Sydney felt a dry laugh rumble in her throat. Obviously that had been a convenient excuse for why she had left. She wondered why the hell she hadn't seen it. How weird Francie had been behaving should have tipped her off but she dismissed it as just thinking it was her new relationship with Will.  
  
She tried to imagine how the CIA would take the news, whether or not they would even believe it. She suddenly felt sobs threatening to overcome her again. It was all too much. Francie was now the second casualty of the spy game Sydney had been playing for almost a decade. Sydney allowed herself to picture what her life would be like had she never found out the truth about SD-6, if she had never told Danny that she was a spy.  
  
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to revel in that thought. She figured she'd be married to Danny, with him thinking that she was a banker. She'd probably visit Will and Francie every so often, and that Will and Francie might have even been able to become a couple. If that was the case, Sydney believed there would probably be double dates every now and then, or evenings when they would all gather and just talk, be happy, not have a care in the world.  
  
She shook her head. She wasn't going to feel sorry for herself. Things had happened for a reason. Plus, she wasn't sure she could even stomach the fact that in working with SD-6 over an extended period of time, longer than the eight and a half years she had already dedicated to it, she'd be helping Sloane build up his empire even more.  
  
She inspected her nails again, frowned at them, figured that Sark would frown at them as well and offer her some sort of comforting anecdote when he woke up. She groaned at the thought. She didn't mind Sark wanting to make her feel better, but she didn't want to be coddled either. After all, hadn't she blown up at Vaughn a couple of months before for doing just that?  
  
She sighed and started to get up when Sark stirred. She wiped her eyes quickly, trying to erase any kind of evidence that Sark might notice to clue him in to the fact that she had been upset and crying.  
  
Sydney kept her knees drawn to her chest, feeling as if that provided her with some sort of protection, and hid her hands in her lap, so Sark couldn't see her shredded nails. She swallowed as Sark sat up, suddenly feeling more nervous around him than she ever had been before. She thought back to the previous night, when she had apologized and felt guilty for doubting him. She realized now that she still had some fragment of doubt in her. She was still uncomfortable with how easily it seemed for him to just come right out and tell her that Francie had been killed. Granted, he _did_ break down when he saw that she was upset, but it could have been an act.  
  
She shivered again as Sark turned towards her, finding herself afraid that maybe that the plan of betrayal she had accused him of actually existed. She found herself huddling closer to the arm of the couch she was leaning against, not wanting to jump up and be conspicuous and cause him to put his plan into action right then and there.  
  
"Morning;," Sark greeted her with a small smile, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.  
  
Sydney just nodded, putting a fake smile into place and trying to ignore the rapid, painful beating of her heart.  
  
Sark's eyes lightened and grew wide as he stared into Sydney's eyes, then let his gaze travel down to her mouth where she had let the smile linger a moment too long. Instantly, he moved closer to her and took notice when she seemed to lean away from him.  
  
"Sydney;, I'm sorry about everything," he whispered, touching her cheek and noting that her skin was deathly pale and quite cold.  
  
Sydney nodded and looked down and her breath caught in her throat when Sark lifted her chin up, willing her to make eye contact with him.  
  
"Sydney;, tell me what's wrong," Sark coaxed, "you; weren't like this last night."  
  
"Nothing;'s wrong," Sydney said quickly, her gaze following Sark's hand as it moved to her shoulder. His touch sent a shudder through her body and Sark felt her tremors and pulled his hand back.  
  
"Damn; it, Sydney," he muttered quietly. "You; still don't believe me."  
  
"I; _do_ believe you, Sark—Andrew—" she corrected herself when Sark's jaw tensed, "—I-I just—" She was floundering and she knew it and she knew Sark knew it when she saw an angry gleam in his eyes. She clenched her teeth, wanting to match Sark's rage. "I; don't know what to believe. I've been lied to all my life, _Andrew,_ and you need to understand that I'm going to have some major trust issues until something along the lines of Sloane's head turning up in a burlap bag happens, and you and my mother are still here, loyal to the CIA, and as relieved and ecstatic as ever that we don't have to deal with him or his Rambaldi bullshit anymore."  
  
"Sydney;—"  
  
Sydney stood up. "No;, if you have a problem with that, then maybe this shouldn't be happening between us. It's bad enough I have to suffer through this fucking _job_ where I hardly know who my allies are and who my enemies are. I don't want to have a boyfriend whom I not only have a conflicted past with but is someone whom I'm not even sure if I can trust."  
  
"So; we're breaking up, then," Sark hissed, standing up as well, inches away from Sydney.  
  
"Until; all of this is sorted out, I guess so," Sydney replied, crossing her arms over her chest, as if doing so would somehow finalize the decision.  
  
Sark looked down at her arms and his eyes lingered on the fingers of Sydney's right hand, resting on her left bicep. Sydney panicked when she saw where he was looking and clenched her fist. It was too late, though, Sark had already seen her torn nails. He stepped towards her and reached for her hands, but she stepped back.  
  
"Don;'t," she commanded, her voice harsh at first before becoming strained and quiet, "please;, don't."  
  
Sark recoiled and stepped back, feeling emotionally bruised at Sydney's rejection of him, at Sydney's distrust of him, at Sydney's _contempt_ of him. "Sydney;, don't do this."  
  
Sydney felt tears begin to form in her eyes at how vulnerable and upset Sark seemed. "I; don't want to," she conceded softly.  
  
"Then; don't," Sark said, his tone cold.  
  
"I; don't have a choice," Sydney whispered, "you; know I care about you a great deal, but I can't deal with this until Sloane is gone. I'm seriously considering telling my father that I don't completely trust you and have him put you and my mother in a cell until we figure everything out."  
  
Sark's expression changed from angry back to desolate. "I; can't believe you would do something like that, Sydney, I've told you everything."  
  
Sydney shook her head sadly. "I; have no way of knowing that. I have no way of knowing whether or not the man I'm letting into my bed—" she paused when she saw the question in Sark's eyes, 'Is that all I am to you?' "—and my heart, is someone I can rely on, and confide in, and truly trust."  
  
"Sydney;, I love you, and I told you that I'm not going to betray you or the CIA," Sark said through clenched teeth. His voice rose, "_Why can't you believe that?!_"  
  
Sydney felt a chill run down her spine at Sark's outburst. She tried to fix what she had done by stepping forward and placing her hands on his cheeks, planting a soft kiss on his mouth. "I;'m sorry, I'm just going through—"  
  
Sark cut her off abruptly. "You;'re not sorry." He grasped her hands and pulled them away from his face before pushing her away. "You; don't trust me. I'm not going to waste my time with someone like that."  
  
Sydney wasn't sure if she was furious or crushed. She sucked in a breath as tears fell from her eyes. "Give; me a chance to make it up to you."  
  
"How;?" Sark asked pointedly, shooting Sydney a frosty glare.  
  
Sydney threw her hands up in exasperation. "I; don't know, whatever you want me to do to prove that I can trust you and that I love you and I want everything to be the way it was."  
  
"You; said yourself that the only way that you'll trust me is if Sloane's head turns up in a burlap sack," Sark said harshly. "Who; knows how long that will take? Besides, you also said you might have your mother and I put away so we won't even be able to help you, which will make it that much harder."  
  
"Andrew;, give me another chance," Sydney pleaded, "just; let me show you. I want to trust you, so let me try. Please, I can't do this without you. We'll never be able to find Sloane without your help."  
  
Sark shook his head. "I; know you'll tell your father about your suspicions of me, or he'll just pick up on the fact that you're not comfortable being around me and he'll come to his own conclusions and do whatever he sees fit, which means he'll probably just kill me. I think you were right about us. We shouldn't be together while we're still trying to do this. We shouldn't have any emotional attachment. We'll break up and you can tell your father you're suspicious of me and that you want me locked up until Sloane is gone. You and the rest of the CIA can go about your Sloane business while I wait until you have finally disposed of him when you'll finally be able to place some trust in me when you see that I have done nothing to betray you."  
  
"Fine;," Sydney said with a nod, "if; that's the way you want it even though I want to prove myself to you, then so be it."  
  
"Good;," Sark agreed.  
  
They stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes, as if trying to find some glimmer of hope within them. Sydney took a few tentative steps towards Sark and let her lips crash against his, their final kiss for what looked to be quite a long time.  
  
She pulled back and they were both breathless. Tears were clearly evident in Sydney's eyes and she could tell that Sark was mostly likely on the verge of tears himself.  
  
She swallowed hard and walked out the door.


	17. Seventeen: Shattered

**Shattered  
  
  
  
**

Sydney was in tears when she reached her car. Her hands shook as she tried to open the door. When she was finally inside, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called Vaughn.  
  
She checked her watch as the phone rang and decided that he probably hadn't left for work yet. She left out a sigh of relief when she heard his voice on the other end.  
  
"Hello;?"  
  
"Hey;, it's me," she said, hoping her voice didn't sound as shaky to Vaughn as it did to her.  
  
"Syd;, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.  
  
Sydney cursed under her breath. "Just; tell me how to get to your apartment."  
  
"Syd;—"  
  
"Just; do it."  
  
  
Meanwhile, Sark was changing and preparing for work. He sighed and tried to think of a way to prove—once and for all—that he was not going to betray Sydney or the CIA. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door.  
  
He took the elevator down and left the building, walking briskly to his car. He was relieved that Sydney was gone already and quickly got into his car.  
  
He started the engine and began to drive.  
  
  
Sydney followed Vaughn's directions carefully and arrived at his apartment a few minutes later. While she was still on the phone with him, he had asked her half a dozen times what was wrong. She assured him she would explain everything when she got there even though she planned to only feed him a few lines about her trust issues and her break-up with Sark.  
  
She parked and got out, not completely sure how Vaughn would react. She doubted he would pity her about her break-up with Sark, so she wasn't quite sure what she was expecting from him. She thought back to the plane ride to Tuscany a few days before when she had talked with her father about breaking up with Vaughn.  
  
_Jack looked over at his daughter and saw that she was looking down at her hands resting in her lap. "Are; you all right?"  
  
Sydney looked up and gave her father a small, reassuring smile. "I;'m fine. It's just—I can't help but wonder if I made the right decision, you know? Like if I should have given it a little more time, and maybe I would have been able to open up and love him."  
  
"Well;, love does take time," Jack told her, "but; if you already realized that you don't love him, then you would have been a fool to stay in the relationship to see if things would change. You would already know that they wouldn't change, and you would not only be wasting your time, but you'd be wasting Vaughn's as well. Not to mention, letting him think there was something there when there wasn't."  
_  
She swallowed. What if she _could_ learn to love him? She felt her jaw tense. She was in love with Sark and that was all there was to it. They would reconcile after Sloane was found and things would go back to the way they were.  
  
But Sydney found herself still pondering whether or not she had given Vaughn a chance. She suddenly felt somewhat foolish. What if her feelings for Sark had just been physical attraction? What if she had fabricated the whole love thing because she was blinded by her lust and he had let her go along with it because of a massive manipulation?  
  
Chills ran down her spine. She didn't want that to be true and she had told Sark twice that she thought she trusted him. She still believed she did, but there was still some doubt, which she needed to extinguish. Ever since they had gotten back from Tuscany, and even while they were _in_ Tuscany, Sark hadn't done anything that showed he was going to betray her.  
  
But, Sydney reminded herself, it could all be part of one huge plan. Besides, hadn't her mother convinced the CIA to free her? Granted, it seemed she was going after Sloane with the help of Sark and she _had_ turned over the Rambaldi artifacts that had belonged to Sloane, but was it possible that she and Sark were just playing puppet masters with Sydney and the CIA?  
  
Sydney clenched her fists. She thought about how stupid she was for thinking she could fall in love with a trained manipulator and killer and actually think that he wouldn't try and employ the same tactics with her that he had used with everyone else.  
  
She sighed a little and stared at the door in front of her. Something told her that it could symbolize a new beginning. She decided she could learn to love Vaughn. She knew she cared about him and she was somewhat confident that those feelings could turn into love.  
  
She wasn't going to allow herself to be consumed by Sark. She didn't want to believe that he could betray her but it was very possible that he could and Sydney didn't want to stand the risk of getting hurt. If she placed her heart in the relationship too much and something happened, she wasn't sure she would be able to recover or even love again.  
  
Vaughn was trustworthy, though. He was a loyal CIA employee who wanted to honor his father and would risk his life for Sydney at the drop of a hat.  
  
She'd learn to move past the purely physical relationship they had had for the two months they had been dating.  
  
She'd learn to forget about Sark.  
  
She'd learn to move on with her life with someone who would never pull the rug out from under her and leave her shattered.  
  
She'd learn to love him.  
  
  
Sark arrived at the CIA, surprised to see that Sydney wasn't there. He decided it would give him more time to come up with a plan though, so he got out of his car and walked quickly inside.  
  
He scanned the rotunda, looking for Marshall. Before he could put his plan into action, he needed to know how Sydney had found him and Irina in Tuscany.  
  
He found Marshall at his desk with some headphones on, humming a techno tune. Sark felt an old smile creep onto his lips at Marshall's kookiness, then tapped him on the shoulder. Marshall nearly jumped out of his skin, but thrust off his headphones and turned around all the same.  
  
"Hey;, uh, Mr. Sark, good morning, and uh, it's nice to have you working here," Marshall said nervously, beginning to sweat a bit.  
  
"Well;, thank you," Sark said politely, then turned all-business. "I; was wondering if you could tell me how Sydney was able to locate her mother and I in Tuscany."  
  
Marshall's eyes widened a little and Sark could tell that he was thinking that Sark might be wanting the technology for his own purposes.  
  
"I; assure you, this is just out of my own curiosity," Sark said with a bit of a disappointed frown for Marshall's sake, so that Marshall might feel bad for immediately jumping to conclusions.  
  
Marshall suddenly brightened. "Well;, it was this nifty glue-stick-like tracking device that was spread onto one of the pages of the Rambaldi manuscript. Then it started to transmit, and that's how they found you and Ms. Derevko."  
  
Sark smiled, also for Marshall's benefit. "Thank; you." He put out his hand for Marshall to shake as a parting gesture, then left to walk through the rotunda to find Irina.  
  
  
Sydney was still staring at the door to Vaughn's apartment. Vaughn was probably wondering if she had gotten lost and was probably worried and concerned. She sighed and thought about her plan again. She wasn't sure if it was a good idea, and she was pretty sure that she would feel guilty for doing it, especially since she believed she was still in love with Sark. But she was so afraid that Sark would shatter her that she didn't want to take a chance with the relationship anymore.  
  
Getting back together with Vaughn wasn't such a smart idea either, but she needed someone right now. Even if the thing with Vaughn didn't completely go anywhere, she at least needed some sort of comfort in knowing that she was with someone who loved and cared about her.  
  
Sark loved and cared about her too, but Sydney was still unsure whether it was real or an act, a precursor to some hurtful plot. She decided she didn't care. She would try to rekindle something with Vaughn even if it was only temporary. If Sark turned out to be good, then she could either elect to stay with Vaughn or go back to Sark.  
  
She sighed and stared at the door.  
  
  
"Irina;," Sark whispered, tapping the woman on the shoulder then motioning for her to come with him.  
  
Irina raised an eyebrow at him but followed him nonetheless. Sark led the way to the same quiet room that Vaughn had threatened him in and closed the door behind them. Irina stared at Sark for a few moments, inviting him to explain.  
  
"We; need to find Sloane and dispose of him ourselves," Sark explained.  
  
There was confusion in Irina's eyes, which Sark noted were the exact same color as Sydney's eyes. "Sark;, we're helping the CIA to find Sloane. It's a team effort."  
  
"I; know that," Sark said impatiently, "but; Sydney doesn't trust me." Irina's eyes widened somewhat. "She;'s afraid that I might be taking advantage of her and saying that I love her just so I can get close enough to her to pull the rug out from under her feet. I need to prove that I'm not going to do that by killing Sloane myself, but I need your help."  
  
Irina laughed wryly. "You; think that you're going to prove your love for Sydney and your loyalty to the CIA by leaving on a clandestine mission and taking _me_ with you?"  
  
Sark sighed and frowned. "I; know it's not exactly the best of ideas, but if I don't do something, she told me she's going to have us both locked away until the CIA finds Sloane. She _knows_ that the CIA will never find Sloane without our help."  
  
Irina nodded slightly and crossed her arms over her chest. "What;'s your plan of attack?"  
  
"I;'m thinking we contact Sloane and tell him that we have all of the Rambaldi items that he once was in possession of, and tell him that we weren't completely trusting of him with the genetic database retrieval mission and that he apparently wasn't too thrilled with us either. We'll convince him that we want our old partnership back, that we only took the Rambaldi artifacts because we were afraid that he would have destroyed the partnership and betrayed us," Sark explained, looking hopefully into Irina's eyes to see if she would—at the very least—consider the idea.  
  
Irina let out a sigh. "It; sounds like it may work, although I'm not exactly crazy about the idea of pulling another stunt on my daughter and then have to explain, once again, that it was all meticulously thought-out and prepared to trap Sloane."  
  
"I;'m not either," Sark conceded. "But; I know how we might be able to prevent Sydney from getting too upset."  
  
Irina eyed him curiously.  
  
Sark began to explain, "Marshall; told me how the CIA found us in Tuscany. There was a tracking device on the Rambaldi manuscript. I say we take that with us, and the CIA will see that that is the only Rambaldi artifact we took, and Marshall will no doubt jump in and say that he told me about the tracking device. Hopefully, Sydney and the rest of the CIA will be able to put the clues together and discover that we're fine with being tracked. If that doesn't work, then it's likely that—"  
  
"—Sydney will come and find us on her own—without the CIA's knowledge, of course—thinking we've gone against the CIA and will want to exact her own revenge on us," Irina said, finishing Sark's thought. "When; she does, we'll explain everything to her. Hopefully," Irina said, gently touching her wounded shoulder, "no; one will get shot this time." She gave Sark an odd, somewhat desolate smile.  
  
Sark nodded. "Let;'s get to it, then."  
  
Irina nodded and they silently slipped out of the room.  
  
  
Sydney finally worked up the courage to knock and rapped lightly on the door. Vaughn opened it a few moments later and studied her face, trying to detect what was wrong. Sydney swallowed hard.  
  
"I; broke up with Sark and that's all you need to know."  
  
Vaughn's mouth opened in something of a state of surprise before Sydney roughly pushed him backwards into the room, kicking the door shut with her foot.


	18. Eighteen: Uninhibited

**Uninhibited  
  
  
  
**

Sydney went straight for Vaughn's pants, wanting there to be no chance for Vaughn to refuse her. She had unzipped them when Vaughn pushed her away, anger and confusion in his eyes. Sydney was breathing heavily, her face flushed with arousal.  
  
"Sydney;, what the hell are you doing?" Vaughn demanded, zipping up his pants.  
  
"I; need you, Vaughn," Sydney said quietly. "Please.;"  
  
"Sydney;, this doesn't make any sense. You barge in here, give me a quick line about how you supposedly broke up with Sark and then you just start to—ravish—me," Vaughn told her angrily, his green eyes flashing.  
  
"I; can't trust Sark," Sydney conceded. "I; mean, I would like to, but I'm so afraid that he's putting on an act for me just so he can destroy me later."  
  
"Sydney;, why didn't you say this before?" Vaughn asked. "If; you had suspicions, you should have said something, the CIA would never have hired him or your mother."  
  
"It; was sudden," Sydney said, her voice shaking, "it; was just last night. Something happened and I tried to find some reason to believe what Sark told me, but by this morning I just couldn't, so I ended it."  
  
"What; happened, Syd? What are you talking about?" Vaughn demanded, taking a step towards her.  
  
"I;'ll tell you later," Sydney promised, "but; right now, I just—" She left her sentence unfinished as she advanced on Vaughn.  
  
Vaughn stepped back, away from her. "Tell; me now or I'm calling the CIA right now to tell them that Sark is betraying us." He moved to the phone and picked it up.  
  
"No;!" Sydney said quickly, taking the receiver from him and slamming it back down. She looked up at Vaughn and saw that he was waiting for her to explain. She opened her mouth to speak when the phone suddenly rang.  
  
Vaughn snatched up the receiver and looked almost questioningly at Sydney as he asked whom was speaking. The person on the other end began to speak rapidly and Vaughn's eyes softened as he quickly averted his gaze from Sydney.  
  
Sydney's face fell and she stepped backwards until she made contact with a wall. She felt tears sting her eyes and she slid to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest, shaking all over. She was sobbing by the time Vaughn had ended the call and she was grateful when he lifted her up and led her to the couch.  
  
Sydney cried into his shoulder and Vaughn avoided telling her what the call had been about because he could tell that she obviously knew. So he let her cry and mumble about how she made the mistake of thinking she could love Sark and how she was so afraid that the worst would happen and that she was absolutely unprepared for it to happen.  
  
Vaughn sighed into her hair, gently rubbing her back and whispering that she would be able to get through this. Sydney looked up at him, her eyes red and her cheeks stained with tears. She stared into Vaughn's soft green eyes that looked comforting yet upset for her.  
  
Sydney remembered her plan and decided she would continue to go through with it, even though she knew it would only be temporary. She knew deep down inside that she could never learn to love Vaughn. Whether or not she still loved Sark didn't matter, she just couldn't see past a friendship or a purely physical relationship with Vaughn, thus why their failed attempt at a relationship consisted only of sex, sex, and more sex. Hell, she hadn't even seen his apartment until today and they had dated for over two months.  
  
But regardless of whether or not she would be using Vaughn, she needed him right now. She needed to feel close to someone, to feel cared for, because she had hit rock bottom and she wasn't sure how the hell she would be able to get back up on her feet again.  
  
She looked into his eyes again and saw something receptive in them, so she cupped his face in her hands and laid a gentle kiss on his lips. She pulled back and looked up at him, saw his eyelids were heavy. She leaned in again and kissed him harder this time, letting her hands drop from his face down to his chest as she pushed him back against the couch and began to climb on top of him.  
  
It was then that Vaughn pushed her away. He gently grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back as he sat up. He sighed heavily and raked a hand though his hair.  
  
"Sydney;, we can't do this," he said softly, turning to face her and seeing that she was clearly dejected.  
  
"Vaughn;—"  
  
"No;, Sydney," Vaughn said, cutting her off. "I;'m not going to let you use me."  
  
Sydney scoffed, but felt a pang of guilt in her chest. "Vaughn;, I'm not _using_ you, I want to give us another try."  
  
Vaughn shook his head. "Sydney;, you and I both know that isn't true, so don't kid yourself. You're certainly not kidding me."  
  
Sydney swallowed and spoke quietly. "If; you're thinking this has something to do with Sark, that I'm just looking for sympathy, you're wrong. Yes, Sark and I were together, and yes, I thought I loved him. But this is about us, you and me. I didn't give this a chance because I was blinded by lust. I couldn't see how good you were to me."  
  
Vaughn stood up. "Syd;, about Sark, you looked so incredibly happy when you were telling me about him the day you came back from Tuscany. I know you were trying to hide it, but your face just lit up. You were in love, and I understood that. Then when I saw you two outside when I was getting ready to go home that night, you were in his arms and I had never seen you look so fulfilled. You never acted that way with me. I'm not saying I'm jealous or that I want to force you to love me, I'm just saying that I could see where your heart was, and—Sark or no Sark—it was never with me." He sighed and looked at her, saw her nod and stand up.  
  
"You;'re right," she said softly. "I;'m just so sorry that I couldn't—"  
  
Vaughn shook his head vigorously. "Don;'t apologize, Syd. You have nothing for which you need to be sorry. This is just how things were meant to be, and it's fine."  
  
Sydney wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Vaughn's arms went around her and he gently stroked her hair. Sydney pulled back after a few moments and smiled weakly.  
  
"Thank; you for putting up with me," she whispered.  
  
Vaughn smiled back. "You;'re welcome."  
  
Sydney chewed on her lip. "I; should go."  
  
Vaughn nodded. "Were; you going to come into work today?"  
  
Sydney shook her head. "Just; tell them you gave me the news and that I just can't really deal with this right now and that I decided to stay home."  
  
"Okay;," Vaughn said with a nod, and Sydney walked to the door after thanking him again. "Hey;—Syd?"  
  
Sydney turned around. "Yeah;?"  
  
"Things; are going to be all right," Vaughn told her, "I; just want you to know that."  
  
Sydney gave him a small smile and walked out the door. She heaved a sigh and wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling rather cold. She eventually made her way back to her car, and was hesitant upon climbing in, because she knew once she got going, there was no turning back.  
  
She planned to tell Will about the double Sloane had had take Francie's place after whomever the double was had killed her. A thought struck Sydney: she hadn't asked Sark about the identity of the double. She cursed herself for blowing up at Sark then forgetting to obtain such a critical piece of information.  
  
She started the engine and began in the direction of her home. She swallowed hard and reached a hand up to her mouth where she intended to chew on her nails again, her hand shaking and the rest of her body trembling. On quick inspection, she saw that her nails hadn't grown back any after the hour or so since she had last been unconsciously biting the shit out of them.  
  
Given her state of mind, the fact that they hadn't grown back struck her as odd and she began pondering it, almost as if to get her mind off of Francie and the double and the truth she had to reveal to Will.  
  
Sydney switched the heater on, trying to warm herself. It was sunny and comfortable outside but Sydney was shivering almost uncontrollably inside the car, feeling as if she was being torn into pieces with everything that had happened.  
  
Her best friend murdered by an unknown source.  
  
The same unknown source taking her best friend's place and spying on her for Sloane.  
  
Sark and her mother betraying her.  
  
_Again.  
_  
She tensed her jaw, trying to stay composed because she knew Will wasn't going to be composed by any stretch of the imagination.  
  
A little while later, she pulled into the driveway, relieved to see that Will was still home. She turned off the engine and climbed out of the car, cringing as the sound of the door slamming filled her ears and made her feel as if she'd lost her only connection to some sort of safety within the confines of the vehicle.  
  
She slowly made her way up the walk and pulled her key out of her pocket. She sighed as she turned it in the lock and pushed open the door.


	19. Nineteen: A Helping Hand

**A Helping Hand  
  
  
  
**

Sydney stepped inside the house and sighed a little as she closed the door behind her. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up, then smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt. She ran a hand through her hair, frowning when her fingers got caught in a few tangled strands.  
  
She ventured to the couch and sat down upon it slowly, carefully, as if she was afraid she would injure the piece of furniture. She gingerly removed her shoes and set them on the floor as she lifted her legs onto the couch, stretching them across the cushions. She leaned back against the arm of the couch, feeling an odd comfort at the solidity of it.  
  
She rested her hands in her lap, then crossed her arms over her chest, then propped her elbow on the couch, leaning her now-clenched fist against her cheek. She sighed again, wondering when Will would come out into the living room.  
  
Sydney rested her hands back in her lap again as she allowed her shoulder to lean against the couch and her head to drop onto that same shoulder. Her eyelids felt heavy and she had to struggle to keep herself awake.  
  
_What the hell is Will doing?  
_  
She let her eyes close as she exhaled, lifting her hands to place them under her cheek as a pillow. She drew one leg to her chest and kept the other straight, her body feeling relaxed in the strangely comfortable position. She fell asleep rather quickly, grateful for any time she could buy before she had to tell Will about Francie. Before she completely slipped into slumber though, she tucked a few strands of her silky chestnut hair behind her ear and drew her other leg up to her chest, allowing herself some warmth as there was no blanket nearby. She sighed a little, and slept.  
  
  
She awoke to Will sitting near her, his elbow on the arm of the couch propping up his head. Sydney saw that he was looking down at the circles of air he was making with the ankle of the leg that rested on his knee.  
  
Sydney drew in a shaky breath and Will turned his head to look at her. His eyes were soft and sad-looking and Sydney briefly wondered for a moment if he had somehow found out about Francie already. She knew it was impossible, as she had found out through Sark and hadn't told anyone yet.  
  
"I; heard about your mother and Sark," Will said quietly. "Kendall; called a little while ago."  
  
Sydney nodded solemnly. "Will;—"  
  
"I;'m sorry, Syd," Will told her, scooting closer to her to reach under her cheek and grasp one of her hands in his own.  
  
"Will;, we really need to talk about something, okay?" Sydney's voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
Will nodded and rubbed his thumb across the smooth skin of her hand. Sydney squeezed his hand suddenly and looked Will in the eye as if to make it clear to him that there was something important she needed to say and that it wouldn't be a simple task for her to complete.  
  
Sydney rubbed at her eyes and rested her elbow back on the couch again, turning her forearm towards her and making a fist upon which to place her chin as she stared into space.  
  
Will moved closer to her, close enough so that Sydney could smell the shampoo he had used when he had evidently showered earlier. Something about that fact struck Sydney as oddly comforting and she turned back to him as he reached a hand to her face. He squinted and Sydney knew he was looking at the redness of her eyes from having cried earlier.  
  
"Tell; me what's wrong," he said gently, running his thumb over the knuckles of the hand that still rested in his.  
  
"Francie;'s not at a chefs' conference in New York," Sydney said slowly.  
  
Will raised an eyebrow at her and his mouth twisted into something of a smirk. "What; do you mean? How do you know?"  
  
Sydney swallowed the lump in her throat before she spoke again. "This; is going to be hard for you to comprehend." She sighed and saw Will's eyes darken in something that she took to be a mask for whatever pain he knew he would be feeling in the next few minutes. "Last; night, I was with Sark. We had gone to his apartment at the end of the day when we left work. It was just—peaceful." Her voice broke a bit on the last word as she felt tears spring into her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling, willing the tears back into their ducts. "Um;, maybe I should start a bit earlier than that," she decided, figuring it would be easier to explain if Will had some background information.  
  
"Look;, Syd, I already have this sinking feeling in my stomach that you're going to tell me something happened to Francie, and you stalling like this isn't making things easier," Will told her, releasing her hand and moving away from her. He leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his knees.  
  
"I;'m sorry," Sydney said harshly, her teeth clenched, "that; all this _shit_ had to come crashing down on me all at once and that I'm having trouble dealing with it."  
  
Will shot her a sideways glance and saw the anguish in her eyes and on her taut lips that were pursed defiantly. "I; didn't mean to be cruel," he began, "I; just know that whatever you're going to tell me will be hard for me to stomach, and the longer it takes for you to say it, and the more I see you growing upset—" He shook his head sadly. "It;'s just making me crazy."  
  
Sydney nodded slowly. She could see his point. She had even told herself that she was going to try and stay composed for Will's sake but she was failing miserably and Will was growing even more worried. "I; didn't mean to snap at you. I just need to give you some background information or else I'm not going to be able to explain this."  
  
Will nodded and scooted closer to her again, resting an arm on her knees and looking her in the eye.  
  
"Agent; Jim Lennox, a couple of months ago, had his identity stolen by a scientist who created a device that allows a person to alter his or her appearance," Sydney said, sniffling a bit. "Long; story short, we were able to determine the real Lennox from the fake and eliminate the scientist and his lab. But, while Lennox and I were in the lab, we found that a second person had had this same procedure done. We didn't have the name of the person, though."  
  
Will stiffened. "Someone; took Francie's identity?"  
  
Sydney nodded. "But; that's not everything. We don't know who it was."  
  
"Wait;, are you saying that some double or something has taken her place _here_?" Will asked, casting a nervous glance about the living room.  
  
"Yes;," Sydney said quietly, dropping her gaze from Will's eyes.  
  
"So; where is Francie?"  
  
Sydney looked forlornly off into space again, her face twisting up as she was close to crying once again.  
  
Will understood Sydney's actions immediately. "She; was killed," he said slowly, turning away from Sydney and looking straight ahead. He was silent for a long moment as was Sydney. "How; exactly did you find out?"  
  
Sydney turned to look at Will and found him staring into her eyes. "That; relates to how I started to tell you this. Sark and I went to his apartment last night and that was when he told me." She held his gaze, wanting to see how he would react.  
  
Will's temper flared. "You; were told this by someone who just took off with your mother this morning to God knows where?"  
  
"Yes.;"  
  
"You; actually _believe_ him?!" Will stood up and paced and Sydney was quick to step in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders to keep him still.  
  
"Will;, I don't have a choice. I basically told him I didn't trust him this morning which could have been one of the reasons why he left."  
  
Will inhaled sharply and looked away from Sydney. "What; exactly did he tell you?"  
  
"He; said that Francie had been killed by this double that Sloane had recruited—I blame myself for not asking Sark who the person was—and that the person took her place," Sydney explained.  
  
"Jesus;," Will mumbled, stepping back. Sydney stepped forward, staying with him, keeping her hands firmly planted on his shoulders. He spoke quietly, "She;'s really gone."  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and her heart broke when she saw the tears in Will's eyes. Instinctively, she reached her arms around him, pulling him to her in an embrace. To her surprise, Will pushed her away and went to the door. He grabbed his coat.  
  
"I; need to just—I need to—" he started, trying to sound firm. He had failed and he knew it. He felt Sydney's gaze on his back and he hung his coat back up with trembling hands. He clenched his fists as the tears started to fall. He threw a punch at the wall and Sydney rushed up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently leaning his head forward so that it was buried in the crook of her neck.  
  
"We;'ll get through this, okay?" she whispered, her own voice cracking. "Sloane;'s the one to blame for this, and he won't get away with it, I can assure you."  
  
"I; know," Will said quietly, "but; what about your mother and Sark? Where do they fit in with all of this?"  
  
Sydney pulled back a bit and Will lifted his head to catch her gaze. "I;'m beginning to think I was stupid for believing that Sark could betray me. So many things have indicated that he wouldn't, but I just thought that it was impossible for me to be able to fall in love with someone with his kind of past. I was just so scared that he was using me, but I really don't think he was, and I was an idiot for accusing him. I think he left with my mother because he wants to find Sloane and rid the world of him once and for all, so that nothing can happen to ruin things anymore."  
  
"That; makes sense," Will admitted, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes roughly. "But; I don't exactly think the CIA will take kindly to the fact that he just left, and that he left with your mother. Plus, I don't think they'll believe a word of what you say about Sark and your mother going after Sloane themselves, without informing the CIA of what they have planned."  
  
"The; CIA doesn't need to know what I believe," Sydney said thoughtfully. "I; might be able to come up with a plan to find out if I'm right."  
  
"Sydney;, that's crazy and you know it," Will said. "Although; on the other hand, if you _are_ right, then you'll get to have a hand in murdering Sloane." He said the last two words venomously and his throat clogged with another round of sobs. He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and accept what was happening. Nothing would be over until Sloane was gone and he wasn't going to allow himself to turn into Milquetoast. He would support Sydney's plan and help her with whatever she needed to execute it.  
  
Sydney sighed heavily and let Will take her into his arms. She smiled when she heard Will's voice in her ear.  
  
"What; can I do to help?"


	20. Twenty: Progress

**Progress  
  
  
  
**

Later that day, Sark and Irina had arrived in Tuscany with the only Rambaldi artifact they had taken—the manuscript with the tracking device—in tow. They made their way to the still-abandoned villa belonging to Sloane and prepared themselves for what lay ahead. Before they left, both of them stopped by their respective homes and packed a suitcase each.  
  
They contacted Sloane almost as soon as they stepped into the house, calling his cell phone and explaining to him, in detail, their situation.  
  
"Mr.; Sloane, this is Mr. Sark," Sark said simply when Sloane had answered the phone.  
  
"Ah;, the man who betrayed me and stole everything of Rambaldi's that I had in my possession," Sloane replied, his tone amused.  
  
"You;'re wrong, Mr. Sloane," Sark told him, "I; didn't betray you. You betrayed me."  
  
Sloane laughed dryly. "How; exactly do you figure that?"  
  
"You; sent Irina and I to obtain the genetic database in Germany. By the time we arrived, you had already taken it. Thus, Irina and I returned to Tuscany to attempt to figure out what had happened to this partnership of ours. You weren't here. So, Irina and I took everything."  
  
Sloane was silent on the other end as he mulled over Sark's words.  
  
"Think; of it as a hostage situation, Mr. Sloane," Sark said. "You;'ll get back your artifacts once you agree to reinstate our partnership—our _agreement._"  
  
Another dry laugh came from Sloane. "How; can I be so sure that this isn't a set-up? That you didn't really betray me and that you're not waiting for me with a complete trap into which you would like me to step?"  
  
"You; can't," Sark conceded, "you;'ll have to trust our word."  
  
"Right.;"  
  
Sark scoffed a bit. "We; trusted you to trust us to get the genetic database and you did not. You want to talk about trusting _us_ and we can't even trust you."  
  
"Very; well," Sloane said with a sigh. "Life; is about taking chances after all."  
  
"You; won't be taking any chances," Sark assured him, "Irina; and I fully intend and have always intended to stay loyal to you and nothing will change that."  
  
"Where; should we meet?" Sloane asked in a somewhat bored tone.  
  
"Your; villa here in Tuscany," Sark answered.  
  
"When;?"  
  
"Tomorrow.;"  
  
"I;'ll see you then," Sloane said and prepared to hang up.  
  
"One; more thing," Sark began, "you; might be seeing a familiar face when you get here."  
  
"Is; that so?" Sloane asked, becoming interested.  
  
"Yes;," Sark replied, "we; were actually able to recruit Sydney Bristow to our operation."  
  
"Mr.; Sark, I barely believed you when you said you wanted your partnership back, and now you expect me to believe that you have Sydney Bristow wrapped around your finger?" Sloane asked skeptically.  
  
"I; took care of Sydney. I made her believe that I was in love with her so I could get close to her and ultimately recruit her to our side. She fell for it, and now we have one of the best agents in the world helping us," Sark said, his stomach suddenly twisting into a knot. Irina pinched him for being overzealous at thinking Sydney would discover their plan in time to come to Tuscany alone.  
  
"I;'m proud of you, Mr. Sark," Sloane said in an almost sincere voice, making Sark roll his eyes.  
  
"So; we'll see you tomorrow then?" Sark confirmed.  
  
"Yes;," Sloane agreed, "tomorrow.;" He disconnected the call.  
  
Sark set the phone down and exhaled loudly, raking a hand through his hair. He was afraid of what Irina would say, since she had heard the entire conversation.  
  
"She; might not be here in time," Irina stated, "or; she might not come at all. We don't know if she'll be able to understand why we only took the Rambaldi manuscript and nothing else. Or she might be so upset about you leaving suddenly that she's just going to abandon any hope that you did this for her."  
  
"She;'ll come through," Sark said in a determined voice.  
  
"I; hope so," Irina whispered.  
  
  
Will walked through the task force rotunda making his way to Kendall. He greeted him with a handshake and a smile and did what Sydney had instructed him to do.  
  
_"Okay;, you need to talk to Kendall and tell him that you want whatever information he can give to you so that you can try and make sense of what happened," Sydney had said. "You; need to find out what, if any, Rambaldi artifacts my mother and Sark took with them."  
  
"All; right, and after that?"  
  
Sydney sighed a little. "If; he tells you what artifacts they took, and one happens to be the manuscript, go to Marshall. He should be able to tell you where they went, as that manuscript has a tracking device on it."  
  
Will nodded.  
  
"If; I'm right about their plan," Sydney continued, "that; will be the only thing they have."  
_  
"Sir;, I was wondering if you could tell me whatever you know about the defection of Irina Derevko and Sark and—"  
  
Kendall cut him off. "So; far we know nothing except for the fact that they took the Rambaldi manuscript."  
  
"Oh;—really?" Will asked, scratching his chin.  
  
"Yes;," Kendall said, "and; what's odd is that that is the only artifact they took."  
  
Will nodded then shook his head in something like disbelief for Kendall's benefit. "Yeah;, that is pretty odd."  
  
"Is; that all?" Kendall asked, an edge of exasperation his voice. "I; have a meeting to attend."  
  
"Yeah;, that was it," Will told him. "Thanks.;"  
  
Kendall nodded and pursed his lips then turned on his heel and walked away from Will, who sighed a little and went to search for Marshall.  
  
"Hey; man," Will said, walking up to him as he stood at his desk inspecting something.  
  
"Oh;—hey Will," Marshall said, smiling, "how;'s it going?"  
  
"Good; actually, but I have a favor to ask," Will said.  
  
"Oh;, well, okay, uh, let me just—" Marshall continued to ramble a bit as he punched some keys on his computer. He turned to look at Will. "I;'m uh, ready, I guess."  
  
"Kendall; just told me that Irina and Sark took one Rambaldi artifact—"  
  
"The; manuscript with the tracking device I made," Marshall said cheerily.  
  
"Right;," Will said with a nod, "well;, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me where they are right now—with the tracking device and all."  
  
"Oh;, well, let me see here," Marshall struck some keys again and Will watched the screen. "Ah;, here." He pointed to a spot on the screen where Will should look.  
  
"Tuscany;," Will observed.  
  
Marshall nodded and said, "Yeah;, and these are the exact coordinates," as he pointed to another place on the screen.  
  
"Do; you mind if I—" Will started, picking up a piece of scratch paper and a pen.  
  
"Not; at all, go right ahead," Marshall told him.  
  
"Thanks;," Will said, writing down the coordinates. He set the pen down and stuffed the paper into his pocket. He put out his hand and thanked Marshall again.  
  
"Oh;, no problem," Marshall said, eagerly shaking Will's hand. "I;'m always glad to be of assistance. But, can I ask you one question?"  
  
"Sure.;"  
  
"Well;, I'd like to get to know some of the people here a little better, so I was wondering if maybe you and some of the other people who work here would like to just hang out sometime," Marshall said, shrugging a bit.  
  
"That; sounds great," Will said, "how; about uh, we get some buddies together and go to a ball game next week or something?"  
  
"Okay;, let me check and see when—" Marshall turned back to his computer, typing away fiercely.  
  
"Hey;, you know what? I actually need to get going, so could you run a schedule by me later?" Will asked, beginning to step back.  
  
"Oh;, of course, yeah, you're probably busy right now," Marshall said, nodding.  
  
"All; right, good. But don't forget," Will told him with a lopsided grin, waving a finger at him jokingly.  
  
"I; won't," Marshall assured him, "and; thanks."  
  
"No; problem, man, anything for a friend," Will said with a smile, then walked away.  
  
Marshall smiled after him, then turned back to the computer, typing again. "Let;'s see"  
  
  
Meanwhile, Sark was pacing the rather large hardwood floor of the villa's kitchen. Irina watched him, chewing on a fingernail. She sighed. She hoped Sydney would put the pieces together and help with the disposal of Sloane. She feared though, that Sydney might tell the CIA instead of coming by herself with no one else's knowledge. She drummed her fingers on the table.  
  
Sark kept up his pacing. He was chewing on his bottom lip and staring down at the floor. His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets. What if Sydney didn't show up? What if she told the CIA? What if she just swore him off completely?  
  
He was beginning to regret his decision. But, he knew he didn't have much of a choice, so he had to live with it. He stopped pacing and looked over at Irina and caught her gaze. Her eyes showed sadness and he knew that the same emotion was reflected in his own eyes.  
  
"I; need to clear my head," he told her. "I; think I'll take a swim."  
  
Irina nodded and looked away from him, setting her sights on a tree just outside the large picture window in the kitchen. Sark took this as a sufficient end to their conversation and went to retrieve his suitcase.  
  
He trudged up the stairs and staked out the second floor, looking for some sort of guest bedroom. He found one that looked appreciably large and nicely furnished and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.  
  
He tossed the suitcase on the bed and began to undress. He kicked off his shoes and tugged off his socks, then started to unbutton his shirt. He removed it, then stood for a moment in his slacks. He cast a glance at the sliding door that led out to the balcony, frowning at the glare the sun had shed on it. He stepped sideways, able to avoid the glare and see his reflection—nicely chiseled chest, well-toned abdomen, and broad shoulders—in the glass.  
  
He sighed and unbuttoned his slacks, then unzipped the fly and tossed the pants on the bed with his other clothes. He slid off his maroon silk boxers and those joined the heap as well. He stood, naked, pawing through the articles of clothing in his suitcase. He finally dug up a pair of swim trunks and tugged them on, the color of them matching his eyes almost perfectly.  
  
He raked a hand through his hair and journeyed to the bathroom looking for a towel. He found one and folded it lengthwise a few times then draped it around his neck.  
  
He thought of Sydney, but not in the way he had been a few minutes before, of whether or not she would come through, but of how much he missed her. How much he missed holding her, kissing her, loving her.  
  
His expression had softened with these thoughts, and he allowed himself to loosen up as he made his way back down the stairs and outside to the pool.  
  
  
Sydney was curled up on the couch again, waiting for Will to come back. She had already packed a small suitcase that was sitting by the door, patiently waiting to be carried out to Sydney's Land Cruiser.  
  
Her legs were drawn up to her chest and she was basically lost in thought. Her mind darted back and forth from wondering exactly what was happening with her mother and Sark to thinking about how much she missed Sark. She missed him holding her, kissing her, loving her.  
  
She missed being able to love him.  
  
She sighed heavily. She wanted so much for everything to be the way it was and she completely regretted ever having doubted him. She felt a shiver run down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself, leaning back against the arm of the couch and stretching her legs out in front of her.  
  
She heard the door open and she sprang up from the cushions, eager to learn what Will had found out. He gave her a smile as she gave him a quick hug.  
  
"So; what happened?"  
  
"You; were right," Will told her, smiling when her face lit up, "about; everything. They only took the Rambaldi manuscript that you mentioned."  
  
Sydney let out a sigh of relief. "And; you went to see—"  
  
"Marshall;, yeah, and I have the coordinates of where they are." Will produced the paper from his pocket and handed it to her.  
  
Looking it over, she said, "They;'re at Sloane's villa. I have to get going."  
  
Will nodded.  
  
"Did; anyone suspect you at all? That you might have been doing this out of more than just a general curiosity?" Sydney asked, biting her lip nervously.  
  
"Nope;," Will told her, "and; I'm actually going with Marshall and a few others to a ball game next week as sort of a 'getting-to-know-the-people-you-work-with-better' sort of thing."  
  
Sydney grinned. "I;'m glad you befriended him. He's a total sweetheart, but he's just sort of shy, you know?"  
  
"Yeah;," Will said with a smile. "You; better get going," he told her, patting her shoulder.  
  
Sydney nodded and looked up at him, into his soft blue eyes. "Thank; you so much for doing this, you're amazing." She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly, sighing contentedly when his comforting arms went around her and she felt his warm breath against her ear.  
  
"Be; careful, all right?" he whispered, hugging her tighter.  
  
"I; will," Sydney assured him as she stepped back and looked into his eyes again. She placed a kiss next to the side of his mouth and smiled up at him. "I; love you for being my friend with all of this, for helping me through it, and for helping me through the things I've had to deal with before. I just want you to know that."  
  
"I; know," Will said quietly, giving her a small smile. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose.  
  
Sydney gave him one last hug and ventured to the door for her suitcase. She sighed a little, then made her way out to her car.


	21. Twenty One: Closer

**Closer  
  
  
  
**

Sydney tossed her suitcase onto the passenger's seat and climbed into her car. She started the engine, backed out of the driveway, and started in the direction of the airport.  
  
She had called several airlines and rental car companies while Will was at the CIA garnering the information she had requested. She knew she would have to pay through the nose for such last-minute arrangements but she didn't care in the slightest.  
  
The late afternoon sun created a blinding glare on her windshield that even her visor wouldn't block. She sighed and squinted through the glare, grateful when she turned a corner and the sun was at her back. She put her visor back up as she didn't need it anymore. Shadows from surrounding buildings fell on her windshield and with the little bit of light, she was able to see her reflection.  
  
She frowned.  
  
There were dark circles under her eyes and her eyes themselves were still bloodshot. She touched her face near her mouth, and saw a few wrinkles there that she hadn't noticed before.  
  
She groaned and flipped down the visor and checked her appearance in the mirror on it, as if the windshield might be lying. She still saw the dark circles, the bloodshot eyes, and the wrinkles, but it all looked worse now because of the clear view she had of herself in the mirror.  
  
Angrily, she slapped the cover down on the mirror and flipped the visor back up again. She found herself gripping the steering wheel tightly, feeling a dull ache in her hands. The stress was becoming too much for her to handle. What she had been through would have probably driven others to suicide but she had managed to guide herself through it.  
  
She set her jaw. She wanted everything to be the way it was, when she and Sark were trusting of each other and were able to love one another. She wished she had never doubted him and she wished she could relive the morning over. If she could, she knew she would just let him stay by her side, stroking her hair with one hand while keeping an arm around her, pulling her to his chest, trying to comfort her for what had happened and protect her from what might happen.  
  
If it was possible, her grip on the wheel had tightened. She forced herself to think ahead to what would happen when she arrived in Tuscany. She would let her mother and Sark explain themselves. After all, they _should_ feel bad for leaving her without any sort of answer as to where they were going, what they were doing, or why they were doing it.  
  
After that was resolved, Sydney imagined she'd take Sark to bed. She'd expel her demons and repair what she had with him by being rough and eager, wanting things to return to normal between them. Afterwards, she imagined she would be emotional about her lack of trust in him before and be in need of his reassurance that everything wasn't her fault. She needed him to say that she _did_ have reason to doubt him given their past, and say that he was sorry for not being able to tell her that he was going to just dispose of Sloane himself so that he could be the one to repair their relationship and let her place her trust in him again.  
  
He would cradle her head against his chest and she would move to be as close to him as possible, letting her fingers intertwine with his, planting soft kisses on his body, in something that was halfway between gestures of love and gestures of apology. As she did so, he would probably run his fingertips from her hip up her side, and over her stomach, tracing patterns.  
  
She would sigh with content and bring his head down to hers to kiss him, and before they would know what was happening, they would be making love again. But this time would be different—it would be slow, romantic, their bodies moving together as one until their joint needs were fulfilled.  
  
Sydney tried to snap herself back to reality and not think of what was or what might take place once she got to Tuscany. She needed to focus on just getting there, but it was hard for her to do that completely because of the intense desire she had just built up inside of her. Her loins were burning, her face was flushed, and she had begun to tremble slightly.  
  
Amidst all this, her heart was beating painfully in her chest, a reminder of how much she loved and missed Sark. She had been away from him too long even though it had only been a matter of hours. She needed him and she was certain that he felt the same way she did.  
  
She finally arrived at the airport and unfortunately the evidence of her arousal still remained. She sighed and lifted her suitcase from her car and set it on the ground. She locked her door and all but slammed it shut, then began walking, pulling the suitcase along on its wheels behind her.  
  
  
Meanwhile, Sark was swimming laps in the rather large pool at Sloane's villa, unaware that Irina had come out to watch him. Irina had taken a seat on one of the lounge chairs and was watching Sark swim. She could tell by the way he moved—the way he harshly carved his arms through the water, the way his feet kicked up waves violently—that he was trying to work out his frustration.  
  
Sark finally came up for air after completing a couple dozen or so laps. He swam to the side of the pool and hoisted himself out. He stood for a moment, the water cascading down his chest and abdomen, as well as off his trunks—which were clinging to all the right places—onto his well-muscled legs.  
  
He raked a hand through his hair as he sauntered over to the chair on which his towel rested, then shook his head in the manner of a dog after it has been hosed down from a bath. His hair was left perfectly mussed and considerably less wet.  
  
Irina smiled at the action, wishing Sydney had been there to see it. She figured Sydney would have laughed and perhaps made a joke about immaturity. Her smile faded when she thought about what Sydney might be doing. Irina was well aware that Sydney could just tell the CIA that she wanted a team to be sent to eliminate both Irina and Sark. Irina bit her lip and ventured back into the house, leaving Sark alone.  
  
Sark picked up his towel and dried himself off, starting with his face and his dampened brow that was causing water to get into his eyes. He moved to his arms next, roughly sliding the towel over his toned biceps and his forearms. He followed this by smoothing the towel over his chest and abdomen where water had still been coursing down from his shoulders. His trunks were drying as he ran the towel over his legs.  
  
When he was satisfied that he was dry enough, he slung the towel around his neck and began to walk towards the house.  
  
  
Sydney sat in the coach cabin in a window seat next to a woman who looked old enough to be a grandmother and a teenage boy listening to his CD player who was probably the woman's grandson. She made sure her seat belt was secured even though it was now safe for her to unbuckle it and propped her elbow against the small bit of sill and stared blankly out the window.  
  
She wasn't sure how she knew, but she was more than aware that the woman had her gaze fixed on her. She sighed, partly because of what she was going through and partly because she had a feeling it would prompt the woman to start asking questions instead of just staring at her for the whole flight.  
  
The woman touched Sydney's arm, causing Sydney to turn towards her. Sydney's eyes were dark and her lips formed a thin line as she awaited the woman's query. "What; seems to be troubling you, my dear?"  
  
Sydney quickly cast her eyes downward and shook her head. "Nothing.;"  
  
The woman lifted Sydney's chin up and tilted her own head to one side as she gazed into Sydney's eyes. "That;'s not entirely convincing," she said with a smile.  
  
Sydney allowed herself a small chuckle and a brief smile. "I; was never any good at lying." The words rolled off her tongue before she had the chance to really think about them. It wasn't like it mattered—she would never see this woman again, so did it really matter if she told her a tiny lie?  
  
"Tell; me what's bothering you, dear," the woman said calmly, giving Sydney a knowing look.  
  
Sydney shrugged a little. "It;'s not a big thing, it's just that I—" She shook her head. "Well;, actually it _is_ a big thing, I just—" She swallowed hard, a strong current of emotions suddenly washing over her. "I; wasn't very trusting of him—my boyfriend, I mean—and he got upset and I got upset, and I ended up breaking up with him, and now I'm trying to sort things out."  
  
The woman nodded, mulling over Sydney's words, perhaps thinking of a time when she had gone through the same thing. "What;'s his name?"  
  
Sydney found herself blushing. "Andrew.;" As soon as his name rolled off of her tongue, she felt better, and the stress that she had been feeling beforehand was lifted off her shoulders.  
  
"What;'s he like?"  
  
Sydney smiled again, blushing fiercely, and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "He;'s really kind, and caring, and loving. He has a great personality, a great sense of humor." She nodded slowly, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she whispered, "He;'s so good to me."  
  
The woman frowned thoughtfully. "What; happened? Why didn't you trust him?"  
  
Sydney felt a knot tighten in her stomach and a lump form in her throat. "Our; past is somewhat complicated, but there have always been trust issues between us, things we weren't able to resolve until recently before things just shattered all over again."  
  
"What; happened to bring things to this?"  
  
Sydney looked up at the woman, feeling her gray eyes bore into her own eyes, and almost believing that the woman could read her entire soul by just observing the emotions etched into her eyes. "I; didn't think he could change, given everything that we had been through. I found it too difficult to believe that he wasn't going to hurt me in some way, so I got scared and just—ended it."  
  
"So; now you realized you made a mistake and you're going to see if he'll take you back," the woman said.  
  
"Yeah;, something like that," Sydney said quietly.  
  
"You;'re sure he won't give up on you?" the woman asked, tilting her head to one side again and looking into Sydney's eyes.  
  
Sydney's eyes narrowed and she stared intently at the woman. "He;'s not like that," she insisted, "he; won't give up on me. He knows I need time." She turned away from the woman then, looking out the window again. In a voice tinged with sadness, she said, "My; life isn't exactly what one would call a picnic."  
  
"I; can see that," the woman stated simply.  
  
Sydney nearly whipped back around to look at her. "How;?"  
  
"Your; eyes, dear," the woman told her, "I; can tell you've been through a great deal, and had probably more than your fair share of arduous times."  
  
Sydney nodded solemnly. If only the woman knew what sort of 'arduous times' that she had had to overcome.  
  
"Can; I offer you some advice on your repairing of this relationship?" the woman asked, fully intending to offer her advice whether Sydney was accepting of it or not.  
  
"Sure;," Sydney said with a shrug.  
  
"When; you go to him, don't beat around the bush. You need to be strong and forceful so that he knows how much you need him and how much you regret your decision. Just grab him by the shirt and kiss him, you know?" Sydney smiled at this and the woman continued, "After; that, explain to him what you told me, and if he's as wonderful a man as you've made him out to be, everything should be fine."  
  
Sydney smiled again. "Thank; you."  
  
The woman smiled back at her and patted her hand before picking up a magazine and proceeding to indulge herself in it. Sydney looked at her for a few seconds more before leaning her shoulder and head against the window and smiling as she dozed off.  
  
  
Sark was in the room he had selected earlier. He had already taken a quick shower to cleanse himself of the chlorine and had promptly gotten dressed. He climbed onto the bed and propped up the pillows against his back so he could lean on them. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about Sydney.  
  
He found himself wondering what she would do when she arrived. Would she yell at him for leaving? Was she just coming so she that she could tell him a CIA team was en route and that he was going to be killed? Or would she grab him by his shirt and meld her lips to his to show him that she was feeling guilty for doubting him and for ending their relationship and for threatening to turn him into the CIA?  
  
He hoped the third option was the one that Sydney would choose, but he couldn't be sure. He knew they both had things to feel guilty about, him for leaving her the way he did, without telling her his plans, and her for giving up when she had no truly valid reason to do so.  
  
He figured that there was something else that could be tacked on to the third option—Sydney would probably make him and Irina explain exactly what was happening. After she had reassurance that he wasn't betraying her, she would probably march him up to bed and apologize in private. He imagined the words would be hard for her to say, so she would most likely tell him a little bit, then leave the rest unsaid by her lips, but spoken loud and clear by her actions.  
  
He would allow her to do whatever she felt she needed to do to repair what she wanted and needed to fix. He would let her lead with whatever course of action she wanted to take to accomplish her goal and he would make sure he supported her in whatever way he could to make things as easy as possible for her.  
  
He presumed that with her plan, she would be rough, eager, wanting things to be back to normal as soon as possible. She would probably be gentle after that, though, they both would be. She would probably seek his reassurance that they both had a fault in breaking up their relationship, that it wasn't just her. Then, they would relax and relish being with one another, and then the event would repeat itself, but it would be slow, romantic, the way they both knew it should be.  
  
Sark smiled to himself. If she indeed chose the third option like he believed she would, he had a great deal to which he would be able to look forward.  
  
Remaining in bed, he kicked off his pants and tugged off his shirt so that he was clad only in his boxers. He slid underneath the covers and smiled as he drifted off to sleep.


	22. Twenty Two: Reunion

**Reunion  
  
  
  
**

The plane had touched down and the majority of the people had already exited the plane. Somehow, though, Sydney had managed to sleep through it all and had to be awakened by a flight attendant.  
  
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and looked at the seats next to her, finding them vacated by the grandmother and her grandson. She smiled to herself as she stood up and opened the overhead compartment easily lifting the heavy suitcase out of it and onto the floor.  
  
She recalled the woman's advice, to just throw herself on Sark, letting him see her overwhelming desire for him and let him draw his own conclusions, until, Sydney decided, she was able to really talk to him.  
  
Sydney picked the suitcase up by its handle and carried it rather than rolled it as she walked out of the plane and into the airport. She retrieved her rental car—a Ford Focus, of course—and set off on her journey to Sloane's villa.  
  
She checked her watch as she drove and found that it was after eight in the morning. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, vaguely recognizing the scenery around her. She kept the car in fifth gear practically the whole way, wanting to get to the villa as fast as she could.  
  
When she finally arrived though, it felt like an eternity had passed. She wasn't completely sure why, but she figured it was her high level of anticipation. She climbed out of the car, hauling her suitcase over to the driver's seat. As soon as she had stepped out of the car, she was enveloped in warmth, and only a small portion of it had to do with the day being hot already.  
  
She shivered as tremors coursed through her body and went straight to her center. She felt her muscles involuntarily contracting ever so slightly but enough to begin to drive her insane with desire. Her entire body throbbed as she opened up the suitcase and retrieved a small lock pick. She wanted to enter the house on her own terms. Knocking was conspicuous and wouldn't allow her the advantage of surprise.  
  
Not that her mother or Sark _should_ be surprised.  
  
If she was completely correct about their plan, they should be expecting her to show. She pocketed the lock pick and zipped up the suitcase. She silently closed the door of the Focus, pocketing the keys to the vehicle. She slowly started making her way up the walk, padding silently, and carrying the suitcase by its handle.  
  
Her lips were quivering when she reached the door. She swallowed hard and set down the suitcase as she reached a hand into her pocket for the lock pick. With trembling hands, she somehow managed to unlock the door and not cause a commotion.  
  
She unzipped a small outer pocket of the suitcase and dropped the lock pick in it, then zipped it back up. She peered inside after pushing the door open just slightly. She grasped her suitcase and walked inside, composing herself, and putting in place a mask of pure loathing and distrust. She wanted to make her mother and Sark crumple just a bit, just so she would know that they felt guilty for leaving without a word.  
  
Silently, she closed the door and stood in the foyer she had stood in just a few days before. She cast a sidelong glance towards the kitchen, then let her gaze travel up the stairs to the second floor. She sighed a little and dropped the suitcase on the floor with a resounding thud.  
  
She waited.  
  
She stared straight ahead, waiting for someone to be disturbed by the unexpected noise and come running. She finally heard someone's footsteps coming from her left. She looked that way, towards the kitchen, and saw her mother walking towards her then stopping about a few yards away.  
  
Sydney felt the façade she had in place slipping, but still managed to fix her mother with something of a cold stare. Her lips formed a thin line, her chin was raised in a defiant air, and her eyes reflected both anger and several questions that she knew she couldn't ask aloud.  
  
_Did you expect me to come?  
  
Did you do this to rid the world of Arvin Sloane once and for all?  
  
Did the plan involve keeping me safe and eventually allowing me to trust you again?  
_  
Irina answered the questions evident in her daughter's eyes with a simple nod, her eyes beginning to fill with tears. She stood rigid, even though her instincts were telling her to close the distance between herself and her daughter and wrap Sydney up in a hug and cry into her shoulder.  
  
Sydney needed to respond now, and it didn't matter how she did it. Her response, whether spoken or not, had to show Irina that she understood and that she was forgiving of her.  
  
At that instant, Sydney's lips parted and they quivered slightly as tears began to fill her eyes. She pressed her lips together quickly to keep them from shaking and the action caused a tear in the already way past full ducts of her eyes to drop onto her cheek.  
  
Irina's eyes followed the tear down and that was it. She walked swiftly towards her daughter, arms outstretched, and Sydney walked right into the embrace. Irina held her tightly, small sobs escaping from the back of her throat. Sydney felt the floodgates open and she cried openly, sobs tearing from her.  
  
She was so relieved to find that she didn't have to worry anymore about her mother possibly betraying her or that her mother would ever try to hurt her. She planted her forehead firmly in the crook of her mother's neck, and felt her mother's cheek nuzzle her hair.  
  
Neither one spoke as they held each other. The embrace said more than words ever could. Finally, Sydney pulled back and gazed into her mother's eyes.  
  
"I; have to go talk to Andrew," she said quietly, her voice wavering.  
  
Irina nodded and used her thumbs to wipe away the tears on Sydney's cheeks. She reached behind Sydney's head and stroked her hair gently then pulled her head forward slightly so that she could kiss her forehead. Sydney smiled at this and Irina smiled back, albeit weakly, wanting to just pull Sydney back into her arms and hold her forever, just so Sydney would be able to see that she intended to protect her for as long as she lived. Instead, she simply rubbed Sydney's arms, starting at her shoulders, which she gently squeezed, then trailing down to her hands, which she squeezed as well.  
  
Sydney smiled again and gave her mother another hug, sighing with relief as she did so. She stepped back and wiped her eyes then picked up her suitcase and began to make her way up the stairs to the room in which Sark was staying.  
  
She looked around briefly once she reached the second floor, finally deciding that the room with the closed door was probably the one Sark had picked. So, with a heavy sigh that made her shudder, she began to walk in the direction of it.  
  
Her steps were light, as she figured Sark was probably still sleeping and she didn't want him to wake prematurely. She finally reached his room and gently laid a hand on the doorknob.  
  
Her grip on the suitcase was slipping from the cold sweat that had broken out on her palms. She set the suitcase down briefly and wiped both of her hands haphazardly on her pants. She picked up the suitcase again and found that her arousal had returned. That alone would make it much easier for what she planned to do. She laid a trembling hand back on the doorknob and nearly jerked her hand back from the tremors that shot through her body when she made contact with the handle.  
  
Her body throbbing, her center tingling, and her lips quivering, she slowly opened the door. The sight inside the room made her heart skip a beat and her breath catch in her throat.  
  
Sark was laying on his side, his legs obviously curled underneath the sheets that were pulled up to his chin. His breathing was regular and his mouth formed something between a smile and a relaxed frown. A smile tugged at Sydney's mouth.  
  
_God he looks so gorgeous.  
_  
Sydney stood watching him for a few more moments before gently setting her suitcase down and closing the door. As she had pretty much expected, Sark awoke. She bit her lip a little as Sark sat up, allowing Sydney a nice view of his muscled chest and washboard stomach in the semi-darkness that shrouded the room.  
  
The curtains were closed, so practically no light was shining through, plus, Sydney had shut the door, cutting off the light that would have entered the room from the hallway. It didn't matter though, Sydney wanted the illusion of night. She only wanted Sark to just barely see her, she wasn't completely ready to be fully exposed with him in a strictly metaphorical sense. She would let him in slowly, then she would be comfortable.  
  
Sark gazed at her, his eyelids still heavy from sleep, and Sydney once again felt her breath catch in her throat at the adorable sight. Slowly, Sark stood up, and Sydney saw that he was just clad in a pair of boxers, which, she decided, would also make it easier for her to execute her plan.  
  
The two stood looking at each other, Sydney rooted to her place by the door, Sark similarly planted in his spot by the bed. Sydney knew he was waiting for her to say something, so she mustered up all the courage inside of her to speak. Her voice almost cracked when she opened her mouth.  
  
"I;'m sorry."


	23. Twenty Three: Purge

**Purge  
  
  
  
**

Sark took a moment to study Sydney's face as he mulled over her words. He knew she was sorry and he knew that, right now, it was hard for her to say much more than that. He saw that her eyes seemed to glisten with tears, and that her lower lip was quivering, as she awaited him to make some sort of acknowledgement to her. Finally, he gave her a small nod, and she visibly relaxed.  
  
Sydney inhaled sharply and closed the distance between them. Her hands were immediately in his hair as she melded her lips to his in a strong, forceful kiss. She pulled back, breathless, and almost roughly pushed him onto the bed.  
  
She climbed on top of him, finding his mouth with hers again and running her hands over his chest. Her legs squeezed his thighs as she leaned forward and began kissing his neck and chest. Sark's arms stayed at his sides, and Sydney was thankful that he wasn't trying to take control. She needed to do this, she needed to purge her guilt for not trusting him, for thinking that he could betray her when he was so very much in love with her.  
  
Tears sprang into her eyes at that thought—Sark being in love with her—but she forced herself not to surrender to them. She chanced a glance into Sark's eyes and saw Sark staring back at her, complete submission etched into them. She took a deep breath, let her eyes flutter closed, and planted her lips on Sark's.  
  
She stripped quickly as she let her mouth trail along his jaw line, down his neck, and across his chest. She shed the last article of clothing she had been wearing, and moved back a bit so that she could pull off Sark's boxers. She tossed them to the floor and ran her fingers over Sark's chest and stomach before moving into position above him, and lowering herself down onto him little by little.  
  
They both let out small groans before Sydney started to move, slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed. She arched her back, feeling new sensations deep inside as she did so. She gasped and moved faster.  
  
She leaned forward a little so she could look at Sark rather than stare almost blankly at the ceiling, her mind having been cleared of any rational thought long ago. She reached for his hands and he automatically lifted his arms toward her. She thread her fingers through his as she continued to move, the pace almost frenzied now.  
  
She cried out and her thighs tightened around Sark's legs and her hands gripped Sark's hands tightly as her inner muscles contracted almost violently as she climaxed. She whispered Sark's name as she relaxed, then felt his body become rigid beneath her as he reached his release. His mouth opened to say her name, but Sydney's lips had already covered his.  
  
Sydney breathed heavily as she rose up, almost reluctant to break contact. She heaved a sigh as she settled onto her back beside Sark, still trying to catch her breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sark gazing at her, watching her with some sort of admiration and wonder, and she gripped one of his hands and held it against her chest, over her heart. She turned her head to look at him and smiled a bit.  
  
"Do; you remember when I told you that I was afraid something would come between us?" Sydney asked quietly.  
  
Sark nodded and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, then brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a tender kiss upon it.  
  
Sydney dropped her gaze from Sark's eyes. "I; never would have guessed that it would be me."  
  
"Sydney;, don't," Sark said firmly. "We;'re fine."  
  
"Are; we?" Sydney asked timidly, forcing herself to meet Sark's gaze.  
  
"Yes;," Sark assured her.  
  
Sydney nodded slowly and swallowed, then looked away from Sark, still holding his hand in hers. Sark sighed heavily.  
  
"Sydney;, look, we both have fault in this. I left without a word, causing you undue stress, and you brought on my leaving because you didn't trust me. Neither one of us made wise choices, but it's over now," Sark said. "It;'s over." He used his free hand to lift Sydney's chin up and leaned his head down to brush his lips over hers.  
  
"I; love you," Sydney told him, looking him in the eye.  
  
"I; love you too," Sark said, accepting the kiss she offered.  
  
Sydney moved closer to him and pulled the sheets up over the both of them. She rested her head on Sark's chest and her heart fluttered when Sark kissed her hair and pulled her closer.  
  
"So; what exactly is the plan here?" she asked. "What; exactly is going to happen with Sloane?"  
  
"He;'s coming sometime today," Sark told her.  
  
Sydney visibly stiffened and her eyes widened. "_Today_?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
Sark nodded. "All; three of us will talk to him when he gets here."  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard as she sat up, holding the sheet close to her. "Even; _me_? How is that even going to work? 'Oh look Sloane, we recruited Sydney Bristow,' is _that_ what you're going to say?"  
  
Sark sat up and peered into Sydney's eyes. "Sloane; and I talked yesterday on the phone. I fabricated a story about me pretending to be in love with you to recruit you to his operation and he—reluctantly—believed it. I told him that you would be here when he arrived."  
  
Sydney took a deep breath. "What; if he asks me questions to which I don't have the answers?"  
  
"Like; what?" Sark asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Sydney shook her head. "I; don't know, but—" She sighed and changed the subject. "Okay;, so you said that you told him you pretended to fall in love with me to get me to trust you so that I would betray the CIA and come to be involved in Sloane's operation—"  
  
"Yes;," Sark interjected, "which; means you'll probably have to be sure that you hang on my every word when he's here, as well as grab me now and then for gratuitous kisses."  
  
Sydney had to laugh. "I; don't see why I would have a problem with that even if Sloane had nothing to do with it."  
  
Sark grinned at her and rested his palm on Sydney's cheek as he melded his lips to hers. "So;, basically, you just pretend to look interested and ask any questions that will help us obtain whatever information we can about Sloane's operation."  
  
"How; will we determine when it's time for us to just stop the interrogation and blow his head off?" Sydney asked pointedly.  
  
"Sydney;, we have to be very careful," Sark said, "plus;, cold-blooded murder is—" He stopped himself, realizing that Sydney would probably have some choice words about him and cold-blooded murder.  
  
"I; know, Andrew, but with everything he's done, all the pain he's caused myself and my friends, I could care _less_ about murdering him in cold blood," Sydney said venomously.  
  
Sark grasped Sydney's hand and squeezed it tightly and was relieved when Sydney lay down again and snuggled close to his body. He stretched an arm across the pillows and let his fingers dance upon Sydney's shoulder as she curved her body against his, her head buried securely in his neck. Sark's other hand rested its fingers on Sydney's hip, then slid up her side, sending shivers down her spine. The tips of Sark's fingers crawled across the flat plane of Sydney's stomach and Sydney reached her hands up to twist her fingers around the curls at the nape of Sark's neck. She pulled Sark's head down to allow easy access to his mouth, upon which she laid a gentle kiss. Sydney pulled back and bit her lip, prompting Sark to ask her what was wrong.  
  
"Nothing;," she assured him. "But;, you and I, we're okay, right? I mean—"  
  
"Yes;," Sark said a laugh, "we;'re perfectly fine, Syd."  
  
Sydney smiled broadly and her heart did a flip-flop in her chest at Sark's use of the nickname that her friends used when they spoke to her. When her friends said it, she never really noticed, it was just what they called her. When Sark said it, however, Sydney felt as if Sark had completely been ingrained within her, that he had become comfortable enough with her that he could use a pet name when he spoke to her. It was as if he didn't feel the need to be as formal as he had been using her full first name. She giggled a bit.  
  
Sark grinned at her and ran a hand through her hair, twisting his fingers around the ends. "What;'s so funny?" he asked her, a laugh escaping his lips.  
  
Sydney just grinned back at him for a moment, contemplating his last action as well—the laugh. She loved the way it sounded because it was gentle and soft, but at the same time deep enough so that Sydney felt like Sark was letting himself go for a brief moment, allowing himself to be completely open with her.  
  
Tears sprang into her eyes, but despite them, she smiled. She kissed him again, her lips soft against his, relishing just how lucky she was to be with Sark. He was obviously the kind of person who only permitted himself to be truly open and vulnerable with someone he trusted, someone he loved and who loved him. She hadn't realized that until now and she mentally kicked herself for not seeing it before. So many things had had to happen for her to be aware of it.  
  
She had to first fall in love with Sark.  
  
She had to begin to trust him.  
  
She had to lose all of her trust in him because of an almost childish reasoning that led her to believe he would betray her.  
  
She had to break up with him and almost sleep with Vaughn.  
  
She had to journey all the way to Tuscany to win back his heart.  
  
The word 'hindsight' popped into her head at that moment and she found herself smiling again as she slid her hands along his back and began to pull him down on top of her.  
  
Sark gazed into her eyes, somehow sensing that Sydney was looking at him in a new light and seeing just how much he really loved her and totally regretting the decisions she had made. He had already forgiven her and he was sure she knew that, but it still pained him to believe that she might not. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a long, deep kiss. When he pulled back, her eyes were shining and he smiled, finding relief in what seemed to be a new understanding.  
  
Capturing her mouth with his once again, Sark slipped inside, the key having finally found its lock.


	24. Twenty Four: The Day It All Came Crashin...

**The Day It All Came Crashing Down  
  
  
  
**

Sydney awoke in Sark's arms and found that he was still asleep. She ran a hand through his hair then slipped out of bed silently, so as not to wake him. She surveyed her clothes lying in all corners of the room from her and Sark's activities earlier. She gathered up her clothes and Sark's boxers and set them on a nearby chair, then picked up her suitcase and set it on the bed, checking again to see that Sark was still asleep.  
  
A content sigh escaped her lips and she allowed herself to briefly imagine that this was where she lived. She liked it. It was peaceful and comforting and it just had some sort of cozy feel about it. She wondered what things would be like for the two of them after today, after Sloane had been erased from their lives forever.  
  
She smiled then, pawing through the items in her suitcase. Sloane would be gone and she and Sark would be able to live without the worry that Sloane was looking over their shoulders or attempting to ruin both of their lives. She sighed again, then cursed under her breath as she couldn't find what she wanted to wear.  
  
Sydney planned to make herself and Sark breakfast in bed for two reasons. One reason was that she felt comfortable doing it, as if it were an everyday occurrence. Even though it wasn't, Sydney wanted it to be one. She wanted to have a normal life with Sark where they could do things like make each other breakfast in bed every so often.  
  
The second reason was simply that if Sloane arrived while they were eating, it would not only help convince Sloane to believe what Sark had fabricated about Sark's manipulation of Sydney, but it would give them time to plan a bit before going downstairs.  
  
Exasperated at the clothing she had brought with her—tops, jeans, and a skirt—she went for Sark's suitcase. She grinned to herself as she propped the suitcase up on the bed, imagining herself in a pair of Sark's boxers with a tight top stretched across her breasts.  
  
Perhaps, when Sark observed her in the ensemble, breakfast would be skipped. A wry smile crossed her lips.  
  
Sydney pulled a white tank top from her own suitcase, then grabbed a pair of blood-red boxers from Sark's suitcase. She zipped up both suitcases and set them down on the floor, checking once again to see that Sark hadn't awakened. She smiled at his long lashes, his pursed lips—with his crooked bottom one seriously tempting Sydney to chew on it—and his tousled blond hair.  
  
She tugged on the boxers, suppressing a moan at the way the silk caressed her skin, then pulled on the tank top that rested just above her navel. She glanced at Sark again, smiled briefly, and padded to the bathroom for a robe, as she didn't exactly want her mother to see her in such an ensemble. She would just have to make sure she opened the robe when she was returning to her and Sark's room with their breakfast.  
  
Sydney spied two robes in the bathroom and selected one, slipping it on silently and tying it tight around her. She left the room and went to the stairs, eyeing the railing and seriously considering just sliding down the damn thing. But she forced herself not to give in to that urge and instead took the stairs two at a time, the ends of the robe flapping against her ankles.  
  
At the bottom of the stairs, Sydney retied the robe and checked her watch, finding that it was after ten. She padded across the foyer and made her way to the kitchen. She opened the pantry and looked for some kind of pancake mix. Her slender fingers finally rested on a box, and she took it out, then grabbed a bottle of vegetable oil and closed the door of the pantry.  
  
She went to the stove and set the box on the counter as she leaned over to open a cupboard. A voice behind her made her jump.  
  
"Morning;," Irina greeted her from the table, lowering her newspaper slightly to give Sydney a smile.  
  
"H-hey;," Sydney replied, catching her breath from her scare.  
  
"Pancakes;, eh?" Irina asked, smiling again.  
  
Sydney nodded and returned the smile as she set a frying pan on the stove then opened some more cupboards as she looked for a mixing bowl. Once she found one, she set it on the counter and began looking for a whisk and a measuring cup.  
  
She gathered the appropriate amounts of what she needed and finally began mixing the ingredients, smiling to herself as she enjoyed the carefree atmosphere. It would be completely carefree after today, after Sloane was finally gone in whatever way he was eliminated, and Sydney decided that she could definitely get used to these types of mornings.  
  
Sighing contentedly, she lazily brushed the pan with some oil and poured some batter into it. She pulled a plate from a nearby cupboard and set it on the counter, then turned the oven on a low setting so she could keep the pancakes warm as they finished cooking in intervals. She was reaching to open a drawer to retrieve a spatula when her mother spoke.  
  
"You; seem so happy, Sydney," Irina said, lowering her newspaper, tilting her head in something that seemed like pity, and frowning at Sydney.  
  
Sydney swallowed hard and bit her lip as she plucked a spatula from the drawer and all but slammed the drawer shut and dropped the spatula onto the counter with a conspicuous _crack._ She turned to face her mother, and, after casting a quick glance at the batter in the pan, rested her palms on the countertop and leaned against it, fixing her mother with a cold stare.  
  
"Should; I not be happy?" she snapped, her eyes narrowed. "Is; there something you haven't told me that's going to fuck up this supposed plan to dispose of Sloane?"  
  
Irina sighed and rested an elbow on the table, clenching her fist and setting her chin upon it. "It;'s just that it's going to be dangerous, this whole scheme. It's very possible that Sloane could arrive here with a small army of minions that he recruited into his plan. I don't want you to get your hopes up, as this plan may not work, or might take longer than we anticipated."  
  
Sydney's eyes grew wide. "Well; Christ, I thought this was expertly discussed between you and Andrew of what exactly is going to happen. I figured you would have thought of everything and had every sort of back-up option planned out, and now here you're literally telling me that we're playing this whole thing by ear!" she exploded, beginning to pace the floor.  
  
Irina stayed put in her chair, sighing heavily. "Look;, Sydney, we can't make any brash decisions without finding out _everything_ that Sloane is doing or planning on doing. We need to pump him full of questions, and maybe, _maybe,_ we'll be able to get rid of him. Otherwise, we'll have to pretend to keep up our charade, making things up as we go, and calling the CIA to take him into custody and hold him for as long as they see fit."  
  
If Sydney's temper wasn't flaring already, it sure as hell was now. "We; might have to bring the _CI-fucking-A_ into this?!" She paced the kitchen angrily. "I; thought this was _our_ little plan! I thought we were doing this so that we could go home and be patted on the back for a job well done, and so that the CIA would be able to breathe a sigh of relief that Sloane was finally _gone!_"  
  
Irina stood up then, and stood in front of Sydney, blocking her path and pissing her off further. "Sydney;, there is no other way to do this!" she said, her voice rising in volume. "We; have no _choice_ but to ask him the questions we need to ask, then go from there. If it means hanging on to him for a little longer than we have to, then so be it!"  
  
Sydney pursed her lips together and stared, unblinking, into her mother's eyes. "Andrew; seemed uneasy at the idea of killing him in cold blood."  
  
Irina nodded a bit, lowering her gaze to the floor for an instant, then meeting Sydney's eyes again. "To; tell you the truth, I'm a bit unsettled with the idea, myself."  
  
Sydney scoffed audibly and began speaking rapidly, the words pouring out of her mouth in a steady stream that she regretted. "How; could _you_ be unsettled by it? In the cold-blooded murder department, you were probably worse than—"  
  
A wave of hurt and anger flashed over Irina's face before she delivered a hard slap across Sydney's face. Sydney didn't move as she let the reality of what had just happened sink into her brain. Irina stood in place, willing Sydney to say something more, to wince, or to back away. Sydney did none of those things, and instead stood her ground, her eyes empty but fixed on her mother nonetheless.  
  
Irina moved first, stepping around Sydney to look at the basically ruined pancake sizzling in the pan. Sydney looked over her shoulder to eye the pancake, then turned around and switched off the burner and the oven.  
  
_So much for breakfast in bed,_ she thought derisively. _Christ.  
_  
She sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, then took the pan over to the sink and attempted to scrape the burnt pancake off of it. After thoroughly cleaning the pan, Sydney left it to dry in the dish drainer, then proceeded to pour the contents of the mixing bowl down the sink. She knew she had plenty of batter for more pancakes, but her outburst and her mother's subsequent response and slap had permanently spoiled her appetite.  
  
So, Sydney scrubbed the mixing bowl and whisk and left those to dry as well, then dried her hands on a nearby towel and slung it carelessly back on its hook. She stood, staring out the small kitchen window. Then, the combination of her argument with her mother, the situation with Sloane, and the now seemingly pointless hope of any quick solution to eliminating Sloane crashed down on Sydney all at once. Her hands shook and she gripped the countertop tightly, trying to steel herself against the sobs that threatened to rack her body.  
  
A single tear fell from her eye, and Sydney knew then that she had lost the battle. A sob escaped from her throat and she wrapped her arms around herself as she cried. She knew her mother was standing right behind her, and—despite the pride-bruising she had suffered earlier—she wanted nothing more than for her mother to console her.  
  
Sydney got her wish as her mother stepped towards her, wrapping her arms tightly around Sydney, resting her chin on her shoulder. Irina whispered whatever comforting words she could into Sydney's ear.  
  
"I; want this to be over," Sydney whispered, her voice shaky and tinged with sobs.  
  
"I; know, babe," Irina whispered, rocking Sydney gently back and forth and sighing sadly, "I; know."


	25. Twenty Five: Uninvited

**Uninvited  
  
  
  
**

Once Sydney had finally calmed down, she turned around to face her mother and hugged her, apologizing for her earlier outburst. Irina only sighed into her hair and told her she didn't need to apologize. Sydney pulled back and managed a small smile.  
  
Irina gently pressed her palm to Sydney's red and somewhat swollen cheek where her hand had connected earlier. Sydney winced a little and Irina bit her lip.  
  
"I;'m sorry I hit you," Irina said quietly, trying her best to hold Sydney's gaze.  
  
"I; deserved it," Sydney said simply.  
  
"No;, you didn't," Irina countered.  
  
Sydney opened her mouth to speak, but decided against it, as she knew it might lead to another argument and probably another wave of tears as her world collapsed again. So instead, she hugged her mother again, then left to go upstairs.  
  
She walked rather quickly and untied the robe and discarded it onto a chair when she reached the room. She spotted Sark sitting upright and leaning against the headboard, clad, once again, in his boxers. She found herself grinning at him.  
  
"Hey;," she said, walking—no, wait—_slinking_ over to the bed.  
  
Sark raised an eyebrow at her and she stopped, nervously tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.  
  
"Are; those my boxers?" he asked with something of a sly grin.  
  
Sydney returned the sly grin and twisted her hair around her fingers, chewing on her lower lip. Sark looked her up and down, nodding approvingly of what he saw. Sydney blushed under his scrutiny (or did her face flush with arousal?). She caught Sark's gaze and nearly melted at how gorgeous his blue eyes looked, even in the semi-darkness that curtained the room.  
  
She closed the distance that was keeping them apart and laid down on top of Sark, capturing his lips in a brief kiss, then placing kisses along his jaw line and down his neck. She nipped lightly where his pulse was jumping, satisfied at the way she could make his heart race.  
  
"Sydney;," Sark began, "we; should really start—"  
  
"Yes;, we _should_ really start," Sydney said with a chuckle, gently biting his shoulder.  
  
Sark rolled his eyes at Sydney's attempt at adding humor to the situation, then tried again. "Sydney;, I'm serious."  
  
"Oh;, me too," Sydney said, her voice raspy with arousal, as she slid her hands down Sark's toned arms, then moved down his body, planting kisses on his chest.  
  
"No;, Syd—"  
  
"Mmm;, I love it when you call me 'Syd,'" Sydney purred.  
  
Sark raised his hands up in defeat. "I; give up," he said with a sigh.  
  
Sydney stopped and looked up at him, pouting innocently. "You;'re no fun."  
  
Just then, Sark caught Sydney off-guard and flipped her onto her back, settling down on top of her and giving her a triumphant grin. Sydney rolled her eyes playfully and rested her arms behind her head, willing Sark to have his way with her. Sark pressed his lips to Sydney's in a soft kiss before mimicking her actions earlier and planting kisses along her jaw line and neck, then nipping at the soft skin where her pulse was beating steadily. He grinned at his ability to make her heart pound at such a quick rate.  
  
Sark worked his way down her body, lifting her shirt up a bit so that he could kiss her stomach. Sydney sighed contentedly, all thoughts of the Sloane plan not going well seemingly absent from her mind. She ran her hands through Sark's hair, moaning softly at Sark's lips on her skin.  
  
"I; have a question," she said suddenly, interrupting Sark's perusing of her stomach and lifting his head up so he could meet her gaze.  
  
"Hm;?"  
  
Sydney tugged her shirt back down over her stomach and sat up. Sark rolled off of her and laid on his stomach on the mattress, propping his chin up on his fist.  
  
"Assuming; our plan goes well—with Sloane—and we think we've retrieved all the information we need, how exactly will we kill him? I mean, were we going to conceal weapons under our clothes, or—"  
  
Sark sighed, causing Sydney to leave her sentence unfinished. "I; figured one of us would excuse ourselves and go to an already decided place where a weapon would be ready. Then, when that person comes back, the other two of us will pretend not to notice anything out of the ordinary, and keep Sloane occupied so there are no sudden movements. That person will fire from where he or she is standing."  
  
Sydney tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. "How; should we decide who gets to do it?"  
  
Sark looked away and shrugged a bit. "I;'m not sure."  
  
"I;'ll do it," Sydney said simply. "I; think it means the most to me, anyway. With all the pain he's caused myself and my friends, I'd be more than happy to return the favor."  
  
Sark sighed, clearly not entirely comfortable with the idea of Sydney having to go through life knowing that she had murdered someone in cold blood, no matter what the circumstances may have been. Sydney turned to look at him, reading his troubled expression like a book.  
  
"Don;'t worry about me," she told him with a small smile. "I;'m fine with knowing that it is going to be me who will cause Arvin Sloane to take his last breath." She chewed on her lip a bit. "Believe; me, I have been thinking about this day for two years."  
  
Sark took one of Sydney's hands in his and squeezed it gently. "What; should the signal be?"  
  
"I;'ll just excuse myself saying I need to use the bathroom, and you and Mom will just have to maintain a calm demeanor so Sloane doesn't suspect anything," Sydney said.  
  
Sark nodded and began to get up from the bed. "We; should get dressed, Sloane could be here anytime and we still have to let your mother know about what we plan to do if everything goes well and we can obtain all of the information we need."  
  
Sydney got up as well and went to her suitcase. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a pastel blue top. As Sydney undressed, Sark rifled through his suitcase, looking for something casual to wear.  
  
"I; have another question," Sydney began, slipping on a pair of jeans.  
  
"Yes;?" Sark asked, pulling on some khakis.  
  
"Would; Sloane think to mention the whole deal with Francie? Would he think that you've told me and that I've had time to digest it?"  
  
Sark nodded as he put on a white oxford and began to button it. "He; intended the asset to be a large part of his plan. He wanted to be able to manipulate someone in your household for information."  
  
Sydney sighed heavily as she pulled on her shirt. "Manipulate; how?"  
  
"Hypnosis;," Sark answered, straightening his collar.  
  
Sydney ran a hand through her hair. "Who; was the asset supposed to hypnotize?"  
  
Sark looked away for a moment, then turned back to meet Sydney's gaze. "Your; friend, Will."  
  
Sydney clenched her hands into fists and ground out, "Was; the asset successful?"  
  
"Somewhat;," Sark said quietly.  
  
Sydney's hands went to her face as the floodgates opened again. "This; needs to end today," she whispered, "_Today!_"  
  
Sark wrapped his arms around Sydney's waist, and Sydney let her body relax and lean against him. "We;'ll try our best to end this today," Sark told her, "but; if not today, we'll try and end it as soon as possible."  
  
Sydney nodded and dried her eyes, walking away from Sark and shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. "Let;'s go tell my mother how we're going to handle this."  
  
  
A while later, everything had been set up. The weapon, a small handgun, was loaded and placed in a drawer of the bathroom closest to the living room, where Sydney, Sark, and Irina would be questioning Sloane. Sydney and Sark had informed Irina of what they had discussed and Irina had agreed.  
  
They left the couch unoccupied and settled into individual chairs. Irina had hidden a small handheld tape recorder under her sweater to record the conversation and deliver the tape to the CIA. She also had Rambaldi's manuscript of his study of the human heart to show Sloane when he arrived. She also planned to tell him that the other Rambaldi artifacts were in a secure location. While not exactly the case, it wasn't far from the truth, as the artifacts were in the CIA's clutches.  
  
The three looked at one another periodically, all of them experiencing a feeling of nervousness in the pits of their stomachs. After today, regardless of whether or not Sloane was eliminated, everything would be different. The three were all quite aware of that fact and were thus a bit apprehensive. Sydney glanced at her mother and Sark and bit her lip, prompting the two of them to ask her what was wrong.  
  
"I; just—I'm not sure if—" She sighed and shook her head. "I;'m just not so sure that killing Sloane is the answer to everything I've had to go through." She dropped her gaze from Sark and her mother when she saw them exchange glances and sigh heavily.  
  
"Sydney;, you should have said something if you weren't completely comfortable with this," Irina said softly, careful to keep an annoyed edge out of her voice for fear of upsetting her daughter further.  
  
"I; know," Sydney admitted, "but; I thought I would be fine with it. I thought I would just be able to end Sloane's life and go on with mine as if everything had been solved. But, I don't think I can do that."  
  
"What; do you suggest we do, then?" Irina asked, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair.  
  
Sydney looked over at her mother. "What; if we were able to tie him up, do something to keep him from leaving, and turn him over to the CIA?"  
  
"That; could work," Irina said, nodding.  
  
"So; that's what we'll do," Sydney said, feeling the uneasiness in her stomach suddenly subside.  
  
"But;," Sark began, "we;'ll need a plan for when to apprehend him."  
  
"Yes;, we'll just do what we planned before," Sydney said. "I;'ll excuse myself and go get what we need. Then, when I come back, you two will have to either subdue Sloane or hold him in place so that I can tie him up."  
  
"What; about when the CIA has him in custody?" Irina asked. "It;'s likely that they will just execute him, since he didn't—" She paused to swallow the sudden lump that had risen in her throat. "Since; he didn't turn himself in to the CIA, wanting to help."  
  
Sydney shrugged, her mother's hesitation sliding off of her easily. "After; the CIA has him, I don't care what happens to him. I'll be long gone anyway. I want to get the hell out of this life and be able to just live in peace, without having to worry about what Sloane has planned, or worry about dying in the line of duty. After the CIA has him," Sydney said again, "I;'m quitting."  
  
Irina felt a smile cross her lips as her daughter would finally be able to quit like she had wanted Sydney to do. Sark nodded slowly and chewed on his lip. Sydney grinned and glanced over at Sark.  
  
"We;'ll be able to live without any worries," she told him, reaching for his hand.  
  
Sark squeezed Sydney's hand gently and gave her a lopsided grin. Sydney giggled a bit, the thought of her and Sark being able to just live their lives was so tangible and so close and she was becoming giddy just thinking about it.  
  
"So;, do we have handcuffs or rope or something to prevent Sloane from escaping until we can get the CIA to send out a team?" Sydney asked.  
  
"Yes;, there are actually handcuffs in the same drawer as the gun, and I believe there's some rope as well. We'll handcuff him first, then go from there," Irina explained.  
  
"All; right. Good," Sydney said with a nod. "So; we're all set."  
  
Irina nodded and smiled a bit when Sydney did. "Hopefully; everything will go smoothly."  
  
"Yeah;," Sydney said slowly, "hopefully.;"  
  
At that moment, there was a light knock on the door. Sydney, Sark, and Irina all exchanged glances with a 'this is it' message in their eyes. Sydney got up from her seat and went to the door, while Sark and Irina stayed put, not wanting to appear conspicuous by crowding around Sydney at the door.  
  
Sydney took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder for a brief second before turning back to the door and setting her hand upon the doorknob. She nearly jerked her hand back when there was another knock. Gathering up all her courage, Sydney opened the door. Her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat.  
  
"Oh; my God."  
  
  
**Author's Note:** Sorry about the delay for this chapter, but I kept having my little dreams about how I should proceed and I think I might have gone off in yet another direction. Ah, yes, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, I love you guys and I love the feedback;)


	26. Twenty Six: Surprise

**Surprise  
  
  
  
**

Sydney fought to catch her breath as she choked out, "Vaughn;?"  
  
Vaughn heaved a sigh and adjusted the assault rifle on his shoulder, then began his explanation. "I; was told in a briefing after you had disappeared that the only Rambaldi artifact your mother and Sark had taken was the manuscript with the tracking device. So, knowing that you had probably discovered that, I went to Marshall and found out the coordinates so I could come and help you in whatever way that I could."  
  
Sydney felt her eyes grow moist and she stepped towards Vaughn and hugged him. "Thank; you."  
  
"Of; course," Vaughn whispered into her hair.  
  
Sydney stepped back. "I;'m sorry I just left without saying anything, but I had no choice. I had to do this." She avoided saying why because it was obviously none of Vaughn's business, and was thankful when Vaughn didn't ask any questions.  
  
"It;'s fine, Sydney," Vaughn assured her. "But; I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that you have some sort of explanation that goes along with this whole escapade."  
  
Sydney nodded. "This; is going to sound crazy to you, I'm sure, but we devised a plan to trap Sloane."  
  
Vaughn grinned. "'Crazy' is a pretty tall order to fill. What did you have in mind?"  
  
  
Sydney, Sark, and Irina explained to Vaughn the plan to apprehend Sloane and a short while later, they were in position and waiting for Sloane to arrive. Sydney, Sark, and Irina were sitting in the living room like they had before Vaughn showed up, and Vaughn was in the bathroom, waiting for Sydney to move things along after Sloane had revealed everything they needed to know.  
  
There was a sense of fear in each of the four as they waited, as none of them had any idea what Sloane's plans were or if he would show up alone or with company. If he brought guards, Sydney, Irina, Sark, and Vaughn would almost certainly be done for.  
  
Sydney sat next to Sark on the couch, trembling ever so slightly. Sark grasped her hand and thread his fingers through hers, then planted a kiss against her temple. Sydney managed a small smile for Sark's benefit, but she knew Sark saw right through it.  
  
After a while, Sydney stood up and paced, clearly agitated. Despite being frustrated, the whole monotone atmosphere was fraying her nerves. "Why; isn't he here yet?"  
  
Irina and Sark exchanged glances at Sydney's actions, then Irina spoke quietly. "He;'ll be here soon, Sydney."  
  
Sydney slumped back down on the couch and Sark wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Sydney sighed. "Are; we even sure this will work?"  
  
Sark and Irina were silent for a moment.  
  
"Sydney;, there's obviously no way of knowing whether or not it will work because we don't know what Sloane is planning for when he gets here," Sark explained. "But;, whatever the risk, it's worth it. We want this to end, don't we, Sydney?"  
  
Sydney pursed her lips at Sark's condescending attitude. "Obviously;," she said flatly.  
  
Sark narrowed his eyes at Sydney. "Then; so be it."  
  
  
An hour had passed and Sloane had still not arrived. Sydney wasn't as restless as she had been before, but she was still uncertain.  
  
"I; hope Vaughn hasn't fallen asleep," she tossed out casually, drumming her fingers absently on her knee.  
  
"I;'m sure he's just as alert as when he was an hour ago," Irina reassured Sydney, but there was no mistaking the irritation in her voice.  
  
Sydney was about to speak again, to ask once more about the solidity of their plan, when there was a soft knock at the door. She cast a glance at her mother—who switched on the recorder—then at Sark, before standing up and walking over to the door. There was another knock and Sydney opened the door.  
  
Sloane stood in front of her, dressed in a light gray suit with a matching tie and electric blue round-rimmed sunglasses. Sydney couldn't help but notice that the sunglasses made his eyes look even more rat-like than they already did.  
  
"It;'s good to see you again, Sydney," Sloane said with a smile that made Sydney's stomach churn. Without waiting for a response, he invited himself in and turned towards the living room to see Irina and Sark standing up and smiling at him.  
  
Irina gave Sloane a hug while giving Sydney a sympathetic smile over Sloane's shoulder, and Sark cordially shook Sloane's hand.  
  
"Sit; down," Irina offered, gesturing to a plush chair as she sat back down in the chair she had already claimed.  
  
"Thank; you," Sloane said with a creepy grin as he sat down. He sighed a bit and wiped his brow with his hand. "It;'s warm today."  
  
"Indeed;," Sydney said, walking back over to the couch and sitting down beside Sark. As per their plan, Sydney curled her legs under her and leaned as close to Sark as she could without falling into his lap.  
  
Sloane smiled at the exchange and Sydney honestly thought she might vomit right then and there.  
  
"So; Sydney," Sloane began, leaning back comfortably in the chair, "what; made you defect to our side?" When he said 'our,' he gestured to himself, Irina, and Sark.  
  
Sydney put on her best convincing smile and grasped Sark's hand, lovingly running the fingers of her other hand up and down Sark's arm. "I;'m in love," she said simply, and turned towards Sark to share a quick kiss with him.  
  
Sloane and Sark exchanged glances, and Sydney caught the knowing looks that went back and forth between the two men. She knew Sloane had to be thoroughly convinced that the reason she had decided to 'join' Sloane's operation was that Sark had seduced her and made her fall in love with him, thus causing her to abandon her principles of what was right and wrong.  
  
"Besides;," Sydney said, deciding to take things a step further, and hopefully convince Sloane even more, "I; was sick of obeying everyone's orders and not even getting the recognition I deserved. I wasn't appreciated."  
  
Sloane smiled at her. "Don;'t worry, Sydney," he said softly, "you;'ll get all the recognition you desire working with us."  
  
Sydney fixed something of a wicked grin in place, then looked out of the corner of her eye at her mother. Irina sprang into action, shifting audibly in her seat to take Sloane's focus off of Sydney and make him give all of his attention to her.  
  
"Did; you come alone?" she asked. "Or; did you bring along a little army?" She grinned and winked at Sloane who grinned back.  
  
"No;, Irina. I decided I didn't need an army when I was simply meeting with my dear friends."  
  
"Speaking; of which," Sydney spoke up, "since; I _am_ working with you now, just what do you have planned? What's in store?"  
  
Sloane seemed to take on a different expression—one that was almost wistful—as he began to indulge his plan. "Obviously;, it involves Rambaldi. He had a device called _Il Dire_—The Telling. It uses forty-seven artifacts that, when assembled, create a machine."  
  
"What; does it do, exactly?" Sark chimed in.  
  
Sloane shook his head. "I; don't really know, except for the fact that it seems to make fate and free will clash and become one."  
  
"Are; there any Rambaldi pages that we aren't in possession of yet that might explain exactly what the machine does?" Irina asked, propping her chin on her fist.  
  
"It;'s entirely possible," Sloane said, "but; we don't know where to look as of yet."  
  
The four fell into silence for a few minutes.  
  
"So; where are the artifacts?" Sloane asked. "I; know that you mentioned they were in a safe location, but I was wondering exactly where that location is."  
  
Irina spoke first, after a moment passed. "Sweden.;"  
  
Sloane simply nodded, not questioning Irina's answer. Irina glanced down and Sydney realized that she was feeling the weight of the guilt of lying to someone like Sloane when the consequences were never simply a feeling of compunction.  
  
Sydney cast a glance at both her mother and Sark, realizing that they were waiting for her to get the show on the road. "Excuse; me for a moment," she said almost sheepishly, and stood up, walking towards the bathroom. She reached it hurriedly and braced herself for the next phase of the plan.  
  
"Hey;," Vaughn whispered when Sydney had closed the door behind her and was leaning up against it.  
  
"Hey;," Sydney whispered back. "Are; you ready?"  
  
Vaughn nodded and held up the handcuffs. "I; assume we wait for sounds of Sloane getting his lights punched out."  
  
In spite of herself, Sydney chuckled lightly and nodded. They were quiet for a few moments before Sydney said, "Thanks; for coming. It really means a lot to me."  
  
"You;'re welcome."  
  
Sydney smiled weakly, her stomach twisting into a number of cruel knots as she continued to wait. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the sound of the first punch being thrown was heard along with Sloane's subsequent groan and shout. A few more punches were thrown, followed by grunts of pain, and then all was silent. Sydney and Vaughn exchanged glances then walked out of the bathroom and made their way over to Sloane's limp form lying on the living room floor.  
  
Vaughn tossed the handcuffs to Sydney who knelt down and pushed Sloane onto his stomach, pulled his arms behind his back and snapped on the cuffs. Sydney stood up and wiped her hands on her pants haphazardly.  
  
"Did; you guys have any trouble?" she asked, glancing at her mother and Sark.  
  
"Not; really," Sark said, "but; he's a bit tougher than I've previously given him credit for."  
  
Sydney stepped closer to Sark who slipped an arm around her waist. Sydney turned towards Sark and smiled at him, then looked at her mother and Vaughn, smiling still. "We; did it."  
  
Irina, Sark, and Vaughn all smiled back at her, relieved expressions on their faces. It was over, and every single one of them could not have been more happy.  
  
"So; what's our plan of attack?" Sydney asked, then added, "So; to speak."  
  
Vaughn spoke up. "We; send for the back-up that I brought with me and get the hell out of here."  
  
"You; brought back-up?" Sydney asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Of; course," Vaughn said, flashing her a grin. "You; didn't think I would come unprepared, did you?"  
  
"No;, I guess not," Sydney admitted, returning the smile and blushing slightly.  
  
"Damn;," Vaughn said, "I; left the comm link in the bathroom with my gun. I'll be right back."  
  
Sydney nodded and Vaughn turned around and started to head for the bathroom. Sighing in something akin to exhaustion, Sydney plopped on the couch and leaned her head back, her eyes closed. Not more than a moment later, the front door burst open and several of Sloane's cronies charged in.  
  
Sydney barely had time to react as a bullet tore through her body and the sound of her scream filled the air.  
  
  
**A/N:** Sorry for the two and a half month delay for this chapter, but as I'm sure a great deal of you who are reading this know, I was working on 'Scars.' I was determined to get this done before the season finale aired and darned if I wasn't able to do so. Oh well;x Anyway, once again, sorry about the delay, and sorry about the cliffhanger, but everything will be resolved in the next chapter or so. Thanks to everyone who breathed down my neck for me to get this done, namely **gin2001** and **Mrs. Curls**, you guys are great;) *hugs everyone*


	27. Twenty Seven: Resolution

**Resolution  
  
  
  
**

Sydney considered herself lucky as the bullet had only grazed her leg. She reached for her gun and took out a lackey of Sloane's who was aiming at her to try and shoot again.  
  
Irina and Sark worked to take out the other men. Vaughn had just come out of the bathroom with his comm link when he saw the scene before him. Without hesitation, he aimed his rifle and sprayed a stream of shells at Sloane's henchmen.  
  
Sydney sat up, clutching her leg and groaning. Her mother and Sark had rushed to her side and Vaughn was creeping slowly into the living room to check for any stragglers. He found none, and went over to Sydney as well.  
  
"Guys;, I'm okay," Sydney protested.  
  
"No;, you're not, Sydney," Irina told her, beginning to bandage Sydney's leg with her sweater.  
  
Sydney all but slapped her mother's hands away. "You; need to get Sloane before he escapes completely."  
  
"Sloane;'s not important right now," Irina said calmly.  
  
Sydney clenched her teeth. "Mom;, we've worked so hard to get to this point, and Sloane is not going to slip through our fingers now."  
  
Irina looked up at her. Sydney just stared back. Then—  
  
"Screw; it, I'm going." Sydney jumped to her feet and ran out of the house, working off of pure adrenaline.  
  
Sloane had gotten into the car he had arrived in and was starting to drive away. Sydney drew her gun and aimed at his back tires. One exploded, sending Sloane's car into a tailspin that he couldn't control and allowing Sydney to catch up to him.  
  
She stood in front of his car, looking at him peering at her through his windshield. "Get; out of the car," she commanded, "now.;"  
  
Sloane just sneered at her and stayed put. Sydney tried again, and still, Sloane refused to move. Sydney didn't turn around when she heard footsteps behind her. She knew to whom the footsteps belonged.  
  
She heard voices behind Sloane's car and saw at least a dozen CIA officers armed and ready and poised behind bushes and trees. Sydney leveled her pistol at Sloane.  
  
"Don;'t do it, Agent Bristow," one of the CIA agents said firmly.  
  
Sydney pulled back the hammer.  
  
"I; repeat—don't shoot," the agent said again.  
  
Sydney ignored him and kept her attention focused on Sloane. She growled, "Get.; Out. Of. The. Car."  
  
After a few seconds of deafening silence, Sloane calmly stepped out of the car and stood with his hands in front of him looking much too amused for Sydney's tastes. She steadied her gun. Sloane just smiled.  
  
"Going; to kill me, Sydney?"  
  
Sydney just stared, her eyes cold, hard, full of anger and ferocity.  
  
"Go; on," he taunted. "Pull; the trigger."  
  
Sydney inched her finger ever closer to the trigger but she didn't shoot just yet.  
  
"Ah;," Sloane mused, "you;'re having second thoughts. Understandable, considering cold-blooded murder is more my forte, not yours."  
  
"Second; thoughts?" Sydney scoffed. "The; only kind of thoughts I'm having involve how insanely happy I'll be when I see the bullet hole between your eyes."  
  
Sloane narrowed his eyes at her, then shook his head. "You; won't do it, Sydney. You don't have it in you. You're not a murderer."  
  
"You;'re right," Sydney conceded, nodding. "Remember; when I told you about the CIA most-wanted list?"  
  
Sloane laughed ruefully. "How; could I forget?"  
  
Sydney smirked. "You;'re no longer on it." She squeezed the trigger.  
  
Sloane was knocked back and, after teetering for a few moments, he fell backwards, dead. Sydney exhaled, and the world around her seemed to move in slow-motion. The CIA agents came to gather up Sloane's body and Irina, Sark, and Vaughn all walked over to Sydney to see if she was all right.  
  
Sydney just nodded, then her bad leg gave out and she found herself in Sark's arms as he carried her to the van parked near some of the other agents.  
  
  
A while later, Sydney awoke in a hospital in Los Angeles with her parents, Sark, and Vaughn all hovering around her. Reality sunk in almost instantly—she had killed Sloane. She thought it might send chills down her spine, knowing that she had been responsible—but there were none. Instead, she just felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The "plague; on her life" as she had called him once, was gone forever—  
  
And Sydney couldn't be happier.  
  
She rubbed her eyes and yawned a bit, then smiled at all of them. "Hey.;"  
  
Her parents nodded and Vaughn and Sark both replied, "Hey.;"  
  
Sydney sat up. "I;'m assuming Kendall wants a full report on exactly what the hell happened in Tuscany."  
  
"Already; taken care of," Vaughn assured her.  
  
Sydney cocked an eyebrow. "Really;?" Everyone nodded. "So; no bloodshed or anything?"  
  
Irina smiled. "Kendall; was less than pleased with the way we went about everything, but all in all, the meeting went very well."  
  
Sydney had to ask the obvious question. "So; what happens now?"  
  
Irina, Jack, Sark, and Vaughn all exchanged glances. Jack spoke. "Your; mother and Sark will go through an extensive debrief to confirm the information they have given us as well as their loyalties. After that, they'll both be hired into the Agency."  
  
Sydney grinned and sighed with relief. "That;'s really great to hear."  
  
The four murmured their agreement.  
  
"So;," Sydney began after a moment, "when; do I get to go home?"  
  
  
That night, Sydney was hobbling into her apartment on crutches. Sark was behind her, watching her like a hawk in case she stumbled. She didn't, and Sark closed the door behind the both of them.  
  
Will came into the living room and saw Sydney standing by the couch. He went to her and wrapped her up in a hug. When he pulled back, he said, "Kendall; briefed me. I'm so glad you're all right and that everything went well."  
  
Sydney smiled a bit, then asked seriously, "You; didn't get in trouble or anything, did you?"  
  
"No;, no, of course not," Will told her, and smiled at the relieved look on Sydney's face. "Hey; um, do you want something? I can—"  
  
"I;'m actually kind of tired," Sydney confessed, "I; think I'm just going to go to bed."  
  
"All; right," Will said with a nod. "I;'ll talk to you two later." He went into the kitchen and dug around in the refrigerator.  
  
"'Night Will," Sydney said, and started making her way to her bedroom.  
  
"'Night Syd."  
  
Sark chimed in, "'Night Will."  
  
"'Night Sark."  
  
Sydney reached her bedroom and limped into the room and over to her bed. She flopped down on the mattress on her back and put her arms behind her head as she closed her eyes. She was half-asleep when she felt Sark's mouth hot on her neck.  
  
"Not; tonight, Andrew," she mumbled, but moaned when Sark began to suck lightly on her flesh. She didn't move as Sark continued, kissing his way down her neck to the beginning of her chest exposed above her shirt.  
  
Sark whisked her shirt away, pressing kisses to Sydney's stomach and palming both of her breasts. He moved his hands down and slid off Sydney's pants, then her panties, and kissed her down below, making Sydney elicit a soft moan. He moved back up, kissing Sydney's stomach again and lifting her bra so he could flick his tongue over her nipples.  
  
Sydney reached down and unzipped Sark's pants and Sark shimmied out of them and kicked them onto the floor. His boxers followed the same pattern. Sark ran his fingers over the bandage around Sydney's leg, then planted a soft kiss on Sydney's mouth as he sheathed himself inside of her.  
  
He went slow, careful to avoid injuring Sydney's leg further. After a bit, Sydney's nails raked down his back and he took that as a hint to go a bit faster. He reached down between them, pressed his thumb against her. Sydney tilted her head back then, her eyes shut tight, and Sark felt her muscles clenching around him and he found release inside of her.  
  
Sydney held Sark close, their bodies pressed firmly against one another as she sifted her fingers through his hair. Sark lifted his head up and kissed her, and after a few moments, they separated. Sydney curled herself into Sark's side, closing her eyes when his arms went around her.  
  
"It;'s finally over," she whispered.  
  
"Yeah;," Sark whispered back, stroking Sydney's hair.  
  
"I; love you."  
  
"I; love you, too."  
  
They kissed.  
  
Sydney bit her lip. "How; do you think the debrief will go for you and my mother?"  
  
"I;'m sure it'll go all right for the both of us, seeing as we have nothing to hide." Sark smiled and smoothed his thumb over Sydney's cheekbone.  
  
"Good;," Sydney murmured, and took Sark's face in her hands as she kissed him. Slowly, she rolled over on top of Sark and sat up, straddling him. She touched the bandage on her leg and showed no signs of being in any agony.  
  
Sark folded his arms behind his head. "I; have to give you credit. You have a much higher tolerance for pain than I thought."  
  
Sydney barely touched her lips to his and whispered, "You; have no idea."  
  
  
  


FIN  
  
  
  


**A/N:** _Finalement!_ _C'est fini!_ WHOO! Hee, I'm so happy that I finally finished this thing. I honestly can't remember what it feels like to have finished a story because it's been so damn long, rofl;x  
  
So anyways, it's done. Yaaaay. Go read 'Scars.' And 'Wild.' Please?;x And if you're already following those, send me nasty e-mails telling me to update. Or not you know whatever Heeeee I'm all giddy. WHEE!  
  
*hugs for everyone who stuck with me on this* Y'all rock.  
  
~E


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